


Resistance

by wildwinterwitch



Series: Cloisters [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baby!Fic, F/M, OC deaths, Resistance, World War II, author's warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 06:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 67,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwinterwitch/pseuds/wildwinterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose take Yoru to London for his birthday. They are having a great time until the Doctor notices his wallet was stolen.The search of the psychic paper takes them to war-torn Italy where they are involved in the fight of the resistance and Rose must face losing all she holds dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains the deaths of original characters, one of them the Doctor's and Rose's baby. I am well aware of the fact that the loss of loved ones and Jonah's death in particular is a very difficult topic. I'm not tackling it out of curiosity or just because I think it makes for a good storyline. It is my attempt at exploring these feelings – some of them are my own – in fiction, and I hope that I will manage to do so gracefully and respectfully. If you feel you're not able to deal with this please do not read this story.

Prologue

The courtyard entrance seems safe enough, but still I hesitate. I prefer Room 184 for our encounters, but the Doctor grabs my hand and pulls me after him. The entrance is cold and smells of burnt wood. “Lyansu'ra,” the Doctor whispers, his voice desperate, drawing me towards him by the hand. I melt against him as we seek shelter in the darkness, like the shadows we have become.

He leaves me barely time to tilt my head towards his lips. They find mine with the experience of many stolen, urgent kisses. I try to let him kiss me, but the hunger and need of the Oncoming Storm is too much and I break away when he begins to plunder my mouth. It's been a while, but I'm tired, oh so tired, and I want this to be slow.

We have to meet in secret, though, always having to be fast and careful. Fast, rough love-making is all we've known since the incident at the bridge. I expect him to want a quick shag against the bare bricks in my back, but he just pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.

“I love you so much, Rose,” he whispers, his breath malialion on the cold skin of my face. He slides his hand between us to fan his fingers out over the soft swell of my stomach.

“Satu,” I say, knowing this is goodbye.

“I can't.”

“Savira’ra,” I beg him, needing to feel him close to me. His desperation terrifies me.

“I... it's not safe. We're not safe,” he whispers. “Please.”

Although I know it's a mistake, I cannot refuse him.


	2. One

One

I dreamed, sometimes, that the Doctor left me. I woke, sometimes, with a racing heart, and once, when I woke crying, he was there. He gathered me in his arms, rocking gently to comfort me, and I felt ashamed and terrified; ashamed because I knew that he'd never leave me but still I could not ignore the insistent little voice that suggested otherwise. That small, but powerful voice was enough to terrify me that one day he'd take me back to Earth and never return for me and the baby. “It was just a dream, Rose, just a dream,” he whispered, holding me close and stroking my back to try and reassure me.

“Bloody hormones,” I sniffled, trying to smile and be brave. I hated being like this and I dearly hoped that it was just that, hormones combined with an old, irrational fear of losing everything I had. In that regard, I realised that morning, I had become very much like the Doctor. He had kept his distance for the same reason, and in his case it was a sensible thing to do. He would be the one to stay behind. And yet his initial reaction to the news of the baby still stung, and I knew it was the reason for my dreams. I couldn't tell him how I felt. If he could sense it he didn't let on, and I was glad he never pressed me.

He began to kiss and caress me as I relaxed and I returned the gestures in kind. He let me set the pace and he pulled me on top of him so he wasn't tempted to take over. His erection began to press against my hip as I deepened the kiss and changed from playful to passionate. Desire swept through me and I moaned into his mouth.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked when I had to come up for air. Although his eyes were dark with desire there was still room for concern.

“Yeah, thank you,” I said. “I love you, iyo.”

As always, his eyes widened a little at the endearment, and it was as if the reality of him becoming a father sunk in a little more every time I used it. I tried to use it sparingly so as not to scare him.

“Make love to me?” he asked, his voice thick.

I nodded, sitting up and pulling my camisole up and over my head. When I shifted to take off my knickers he rose and stilled my movement. “Let me look at you,” he said softly.

A flush warmed my face as I rested my hands on his stomach. If you knew I was pregnant you could see the tiny swell of my stomach, but the more obvious sign of my condition were my full breasts. The Doctor reached out to touch them, drifting his fingers over them like cool silk. I shivered and looked at him. His eyes were following his fingers and I was swept away by the awe and reverence with which he moved. How could I dream of him leaving me?

“Tam shia ngarthu,” he whispered, looking up and giving me his gorgeous, open smile. I smiled gratefully at him and leaned down, draping my arm around his neck to pull him on top of me as I lay down. He was careful to keep his weight off me as he moved along to map the changes of my body with his hands and mouth. I opened myself to him as his thumbs stroked the insides of my thighs. I sighed, arching towards him as he tasted and suckled me.

“Doctor, yamu'sati sam,” I moaned. “Please, please, please.” He'd asked me to make love to him, so I dropped my hands into his hair and pushed him away. He looked crest-fallen and I moved quickly to wipe his glistening chin and kiss him. “You wanted me to make love to you.”

He grinned sheepishly. “I did.”

“Will you let me?” I asked shyly.

“Hey,” he said, cupping my cheek. “Anything. I'd do anything for you, my love.” We kissed; it was slow and tender and eventually I undressed him and made him lie back. I loved kissing him, and for a long while I did nothing but that. His cock throbbed against my thigh very reassuringly, but there came a point when I shifted, reached between us and began to stroke him. He cried out and bucked beneath me before he managed to grab my wrist and pull my hand away. “So close,” he panted.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I want to be inside you,” he rasped. “If that's... if it won't hurt you... or the baby.”

“We'll just have to be careful,” I said.

He growled. “I don't think I'll be able to hold back.”

I rose. “In that case...” I murmured, crawling down his body, kissing and scraping his skin gently with my nails until I could take him into my mouth. He tried to hold still as I brought him to orgasm, but in the end he shuddered and trembled as he lost himself.

I knelt next to him, watching him as he recovered. A fine sheen of sweat covered his pale skin. I particularly liked how relaxed he looked, and how happy. I studied the tattoo on the inside of his wrist as it rested on the pillow beside his head, reaching out to trace the fine blue lines. How could I ever have doubted my husband, even if it was only in a dream?

His eyes fluttered open. “Kinam'sati,” he whispered.

“I've resisted you long enough,” I said, slipping my fingers between his. But he was right; I was insatiable.

“What about you? Don't you want to come?” he asked, pressing his palm against mine. For a moment I wasn't sure if I wanted to. Sometimes I derived enough pleasure from making love to him. But there was something in his eyes, a vulnerability he hardly ever showed, that made me smile and nod.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, leaning down to kiss him. Again, we got lost in each other and I nearly forgot my question.

Then he shifted so we were lying facing each other, and he ran his free hand along my side, over my bum until it came to rest mid-thigh. I loved this position, and soon he lay, sheathed inside me, with one leg between mine. The pressure of his thigh and the friction of his hair there were sublime when he flexed his muscles. I was in heaven. “Be gentle,” I said quite unnecessarily. His movement was restricted but it was exquisite for me. I'd thought I didn't need or want an orgasm after I'd given him his, but now I was glad I let him.

He let go my hand as he held me by the hip and buried his fingers in my hair to kiss me. He kept whispering to me, but I was so wrapped up in the warmth of his ministrations that I did not hear a single word. But I loved the tone he used, a mix of love and encouragement and dirty talk. I was close already when he pushed his thigh against my clit one last time and I fell. The sensation was heightened by his measured strokes and then the ripple of his cock as he followed me.

We lay in silence, listening to each other's breathing until he slipped out of me and I closed my legs firmly to not make a mess of the sheets. “Thank you.”

He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

-:-

“Would you... I mean... we could... Maybe we can...” the Doctor stammered as I held out a cup of tea for him. He was crouched beneath the console, tinkering with some circuit, his hair dishevelled and his eyes wide. Something had been on his mind all morning, and tinkering usually helped him put his thoughts in order.

“What?” I asked, sitting down on the grating beside him with my own mug. It was some fruity concoction that was a surprisingly good replacement for the English Breakfast tea I preferred.

He took a deep breath. “I think it's time we listened to the little one's heart. Hearts,” he blurted.

I'd wondered when he'd ask that, and I was glad that I had given him time to work up the courage to do so. It wasn't that I didn't want to find out if our child was human or Gallifreyan, or that I didn't care. I did, wonder and care, a lot, but I knew I'd love him anyway. The Doctor, I knew, needed some time to weigh the possibilities and implications; he needed to be ready.

“Are you sure?” I asked. There was nothing I wanted more than to know if the baby was all right; we weren't irresponsibly late with the very first check-up. After all, women had had children for thousands of years without the help of modern technology. I felt great, particularly because morning sickness was limited to some mild nausea that went away as soon as I ate something. I was often tired, but that was it.

He nodded.

We set down our mugs, the Doctor took my hand and led me to our bedroom. When I looked at him in surprise he said, “I don't want to find out in the infirmary. It's such a stark, cold place. And we'll be more comfortable in our bed.”

I took off my jeans and lay down, the Doctor following me with his stethoscope around his neck. “Is that all? Just the stethoscope?”

“Superior sense of hearing, me,” he shrugged. “Besides, you taste perfect.” Just to make sure, he took an experimental lick of the inside of my elbow, smacked his lips and grinned. “Delicious.”

“Kinam'sati,” I said. I plumped up the cushions and reclined against them.

“With you? Always.” He knelt next to me, pushed up my t-shirt a little and adjusted the stethoscope. He grinned at me, then warmed the chestpiece. Still, I jumped a little as he put it on my stomach. The tiny swell was invisible when I was lying down. I moved my hands aside so I could see him. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he turned all his attention to the tiny life inside me. He moved the stethoscope around a little, his free hand resting on my waist as he listened intently. His eyebrows knitted together, his lashes fluttered shut and he ducked his head to hide his expression. When he rocked back to sit on his heels and to give me the stethoscope his expression was inscrutable. But he wouldn't meet my eyes because he knew he was an open book to me in vulnerable moments like this.

Terror took hold of me. Sheer, icy terror. “Doctor?” I gingerly took the stethoscope, not sure if I wanted to hear what he had heard; or hadn't.

“Go ahead, listen,” he said softly.

I did. There was only one heartbeat. Fast but regular, excited. But only one.

“He's human,” I said, laughing a little as the uncontrollable relief of having certainty washed over me. I didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, human or Gallifreyan. All I wanted to know was if it was healthy, if I would be able to have the baby. Miraculously, he was human.

“Yeah,” the Doctor said, who I knew would have to suffer the loss of another child.

“I'm sorry.” I removed the stethoscope, smoothed down my t-shirt and sat up. The Doctor hadn't moved. Happiness mingled with a sense of loss and inadequacy, and the images from my dream came rushing back as I reached out for him. “I'm sorry.”

His hand rested, heavy and limp, in mine. I smoothed my thumb over the ripple of bones and veins and hairs on the back to coax a reaction out of him; any reaction. His stillness was making me anxious. Suddenly, he closed his fingers around mine. When he looked at me his eyes were swimming in tears.

“We made him, you and me both,” he said very softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “Don't ever say you're sorry for having my baby.”

Before I could say anything he pulled me into his embrace and held me tight. After a while he let go of me, his cheeks damp where the tears had fallen. My heart broke for him but I didn't know what to say. Finding the baby was human must be crushing. I suddenly realised why he had been less than pleased when he'd found out I was pregnant. Never had I come even close to appreciating the enormity of what my pregnancy meant to him. I'd had a fair idea, but it was nothing compared to the anguish I saw in his face.

Just as I was about to say something he shushed me with his fingers against my lips. “We made him.” He guided me to lie down and as I did he curled around me, his head pillowed by my stomach and his hand slipping beneath my shirt to rest where the baby was protectively, possessively. Malialion.

I wove my fingers into his hair and tried to believe him.


	3. Two

Two

We spent a lot of time in London. The TARDIS was parked in a quiet corner of the Powell Estates, and it was from there I went up to the flat every morning to pack the things I wanted to keep into a couple of boxes. The decision to finally give up the flat had been slow in coming, but now that I'd made it I felt free. There were quite a few things, I knew, that would make the job difficult, things Mum would have liked to take, given the chance. It was almost as if she'd died; she had, as far as everyone else was concerned. She had died, in a way, only that she was still alive in that parallel universe. It was good to know she was alive, but I still wondered if she was doing well, if Pete and she had gotten together. At least Mickey was there with her.

A little helpless at first as to where to start, brushing a tear away, I decided to start with my room. That way, I hoped I would be used to throwing things out by the time I reached Mum's bedroom, which I kept until after I’d finished the rest of the rooms. As I stood in front of my wardrobe I realised that these clothes belonged to a different Rose, and even those I wanted to keep would be too small in a matter of weeks. I sat heavily on my bed, caressing the tiny swell of my stomach.

I would have loved nothing more than for Mum to be there. I had so many questions, and I wanted a woman, a mother, to answer them rather than look up answers. The books had started to appear on both our bedside tables, and in the kitchen, and there even was a small stack in the console room. The night before, the Doctor had come home with three books on pregnancy and babies he had picked up in the high street bookshop. Some of those books terrified me. The idea of becoming a mother with the help of books rather than people scared me.

So I had decided to go and see my doctor later that afternoon. As far as she was concerned I had moved away, so there weren't any questions asked, particularly because I’d been keeping my appointments like clockwork, even when we were travelling. I made sure I got home, and of course they could make the usual phone reminders since they always got through no matter where we were. The Doctor's reaction, when I'd told him about the appointment, had been something in between offence and relief. I'd given him the address and told him he could meet me there if he wanted.

Sighing, I stood and began to pull out my clothes. Most of my favourites were already in the TARDIS, together with the various items of clothing I had picked up while travelling, alongside the things I had worn in Lufana. I fetched the two old suitcases we owned and packed the few things I wanted to take in one, and the clothes that were good enough for charity into the other. The worst part of tidying up was going to be my vanity. It had always been a mess, and, I giggled, seemingly bigger on the inside because whatever it was I wanted to get rid of but not throw into the bin went in one of the drawers. All of the beauty products were well past their best-before date. I threw them indiscriminately into a black bin bag. There was the odd piece of jewellery, cheap but cherished, that I wanted to keep, and the St Christopher pendant grandfather Prentice had given me for my christening. I'd never liked it, but it was a family heirloom of sorts, and I couldn't bring myself to give it away. I found a little box for it to keep it safe.

I packed my diary, of course, embarrassing though it was now, and my scrapbooks. I also plucked some of the photos off the walls. As I looked at them, however, the people, including me, felt like strangers. It was an entirely different life and I didn't recognise myself in most of them. Parting with all these things was going to be easier than I'd thought. When I was finished in my room, all there was left was a suitcase and a box with a few personal items.

There was a little time left before my appointment, so I took it all to the TARDIS and made myself a cup of tea. My things were quickly put away and I took the suitcase back to the flat for Mum's things before I left. No one in the Powell Estate seemed to notice me.

By the time I had all my questions answered by Dr Harris I felt close to tears. It was obvious that the Doctor was offended enough by my decision not to come.

“Are you all right, Rose?” Dr Harris asked as she gestured for me to precede her into the exam room.

“Just a little... overwhelmed,” I said, smiling bravely.

“That's perfectly normal,” she said.

The last of the screening tests she took was the ultrasound. I'd been looking forward to this, and I'd hoped the Doctor would be there with me. But he hadn't shown, and as I made myself comfortable on the exam couch, I blinked back my tears. I gasped a little as Dr Harris touched my skin with the scanning head – it was cold, of course, because it was covered with gel. She turned the screen so I could see what the ultrasound was picking up. I was more than a little disappointed when I wasn't able to recognise anything on the screen; it was just an unintelligible mass of black, white and grey.

I jumped a little when there was a knock on the door, and Dr Harris broke the contact. The receptionist peeked around the curtain that gave us some privacy and said, “Your husband's here, Rose. Would you like him to come in?”

I blinked in surprise. “Yeah.”

Soon enough, the Doctor came in, grinning sheepishly. “I'm sorry I'm so late.” He pulled up the stool the receptionist had shown him and sat down beside me, taking my hand.

“Would you like to see your baby?” Dr Harris asked him, lowering the scanning device again. She applied a little pressure and I was glad I didn't need to go to the loo. She indicated an area on the screen, in which, with a lot of imagination, I could make out the shape of a baby. Our baby. When the Doctor tightened his grip around my fingers I tore my eyes away from the screen to look at him. He had slipped on his specs, and his expression was one of awe.

“Is he all right?” he squeaked.

“He? It's a little early to tell,” Dr Harris said.

He shook off his reverie. “I like using pronouns to refer to people, which is not always easy, in some languages you know, they are a rather complicated business, but I'm rambling, sorry about that. So, I like to think of him as a he, if you don't mind. Especially because he's ours.”

Dr Harris gave him an odd look and I bit back a grin.

“This is our baby. He's not an it,” the Doctor scoffed. “Is he all right?”

Dr Harris nodded. “As far as I can tell, he is. He's as big as he should at nine weeks,” she said.

“What about the other tests?” he asked.

“Everything is as it's supposed to be,” Dr Harris said.

“I told you,” the Doctor said, kissing my temple. “See?”

“Yeah,” I smiled.

When we had left the doctor's office I slipped my hand into his so our tattoos touched. “I'm sorry if I hurt you. But I needed to know,” I said.

“I know, I do,” he said, sighing. “You'll have to be even more patient with me now, I'm afraid. I'll try my best, I promise you that, but... I've never had a human child before.”

I laughed. “Neither have I, iyo.”

He stopped, tugging at my hand. “Say that again.”

I turned towards him, then taking a step into his arms. “Iyo, ngudia sam.” His lips crashed against mine, his kiss needy and urgent. I realised, before my knees went wobbly, that he was beginning to appreciate that we were having a baby who would grow up to be a person in his own right, that this baby wasn't just an idea, but real; I had the printout of the ultrasound in my bag, and his heartbeat was still ringing in my ears. When I pushed into him a little, his kiss became less hurried and a little more tender but it remained just as deep.

We broke apart when I had to come up for air. “Thank you,” I said.

-:-

Two days later I was ready to go through Mum's things. I gave her vanity the same treatment as mine, except for the sealed hair products that were worth a fortune. Those I'd give to a friend of hers who was a hairdresser as well, along with some of her other paraphernalia. Most of Mum's clothes went to charity just like mine. I found a couple of very personal things – I could have done without actually knowing she had a vibrator – which I put into a box. I wanted to keep those things for her, a diary, letters from Dad, some of her jewellery and souvenirs from rare holidays, in case she returned one day. My heart broke when I picked up the framed photograph of my wedding, and the wedding gown of my childhood dreams. Those I put into the box as well.

When her closet was nearly empty I found a cardboard box behind the bedlinen. I'd never seen it before and I was a bit anxious about opening it. It almost certainly held very personal things and I didn't want to invade her privacy more than I already had. Taking a deep breath, I sat on her bed and carefully lifted the lid.

The box contained my baby things. As I pulled out rompers, tiny jumpers and minuscule jeans I realised she had only kept the nicest things. There was a small pair of cream-coloured Converse, and I laughed out loud. I found a rattle and some other toys, and even Pip, a stuffed penguin I'd had for as long as I could remember, and who one day disappeared; it was a while, I remembered, before I noticed his absence, and now it became clear that Mum had rescued him. The fabric had worn thin where I'd always held him in my hand as I cuddled him to me beneath my chin.

“Oh Pip,” I whispered, running my hands over his little head. His beak was a little deformed and not really orange any more, just like his tummy was more grey than white. How many tears the little fellow had soaked up, how faithfully he'd listened to my little-girl sorrows.

“Hey.”

The Doctor's voice pulled me back to reality. I looked up, dropping Pip into my lap. “Hi.”

His eyes travelled from the penguin to the pile of clothes and the pair of converse on top of it. “Look at that!” he grinned, coming in to pick up the shoes.

I smiled as he held them in his flat palm. They looked even tinier now. “They're mine.”

His jaw went slack for a beat before he smiled in delight. “Really?”

I nodded.

“Well, imagine that,” he said, bending to kiss me. “Are all these yours?”

“I just found them in Mum's closet. I had no idea she kept them. And him,” I said, holding up Pip. He took him, and just like the shoes, the penguin was so small in his hand that he nearly disappeared. The Doctor knelt before me, sitting back on his heels, studying Pip.

“I never... when I was little... I can't remember having a soft toy,” he said, looking up. “I think I'd like our little one to have one. If you don't mind.”

I cupped his cheek. “Of course.”

In the end, I kept Pip and the Converse. I wanted our child to have his own clothes, so I gave the ones in the box to charity as well. It was surprisingly hard to give up the baby clothes, because Mum had wanted to keep them, obviously, but they meant nothing to me. Apart from the Converse and Pip.

-:-

We left London shortly before Yoru's birthday. We had picked up his gift at a flea market, and the Doctor spent an evening tinkering with it in the workshop to make it compatible with Ruulim technology. The gramophone was a lucky find, particularly since it was in such good condition. When the Doctor showed it to me, rousing me from a nap on the sofa in the library, it looked shiny and new. The Doctor proudly explained that it didn't only play Earth records but Ruulim records as well. We decided to test it out and he put on Moonlight Serenade. He swept me into his arms and we swayed gently to the music. We ended up kissing, and did so for a while after the song had ended and the empty scratch of the needle on the record filled the room. Thankfully, he had improved the needle head and the horn so that the music didn't sound as earsplittingly tinny as it had when he'd first tried it out.

After he'd wound the gramophone up a second time, he put on a Ruulim record, and we danced to that. By the time that record ended, his hands had travelled underneath my shirt, where they held me to him, his thumbs gently stroking my sides and back. Our kiss was slow and deep, and I lost myself in it, my arms wrapped around his neck. He was growing hard against me, and I had this idea that if he made love to me he would put my pleasure first.

“Rose,” he whispered eventually, his forehead resting against mine. “I'm sorry for being such an idiot about the baby.”

“'s okay,” I said, closing my eyes. “I understand.”

We stood like this for a while, just holding each other and enjoying being together. “Sometimes I don't know how you do it, Rose, being there for me,” he said softly. “And I wish I could be better at taking care of you, of protecting you.”

I pushed him gently away, just far enough so we could look at each other. “I love you, Doctor, 's how I do it.”

“Oh Rose,” he mumbled, drawing me close to him for another kiss.

To say he worshipped me when he made love to me afterwards would be putting it mildly. He took me to our bedroom where he undressed me and lay me down on our bed. He caressed and kissed me to the edge of total abandon a couple of times before he sent me, my body singing, quietly over the edge. When I came to after drifting in my pleasure for a while, I realised he hadn't said a word.

His eyes were full of love when I met them, and I leaned up to kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue. There were things I wanted to say, but words would only spoil the mood, so I opened my mind to him, to invite him in to share what we couldn't put voice to. I smiled when he touched my temple, and keeping my eyes open as he slowly entered me was hard. I pulled him down towards me for a kiss as he tried to keep his weight off me, and he groaned softly as his body came flush with mine. His skin was cool, and it sent ripples of pleasure through me.

They came in quick succession when he let himself go, my pleasure mixing with his. The intensity of him was so overwhelming I arched into him and cried out loud, turning my head away from him. He let go of my temple, but the sensations remained as strong as ever. He growled as my nails bit into the flesh of his shoulders.

Then he started to move, and my tightness and warmth around his cock was exquisite as he brushed against me again and again. He kept his strokes shallow at the beginning, for my sake, but then I shifted, lifting my bum off the mattress, inviting him in deeper, demanding more. A shuddering groan escaped him and his lashes fluttered shut as he sank deeper into me, letting himself go, giving himself over to me and the joy I gave him, while at the same time revelling in the heights of bliss he was able to take me to, encouraging me to let go, to let myself fall, he'd always be there to catch me. He made us come together, and as the sensations of imiyatun became too overwhelming I let go, hearing myself cry out, the sound fading away as I sank into nothingness.

-:-

My heart was thumping in my chest when we were finally standing outside Sho, waiting for Fenia to open the door. Although only two weeks had passed since our last visit I was happy to be back, particularly now that there was nothing to overshadow it. The last time we'd been here I had needed my best friend's shoulder to cry on. It all seemed such a long time ago now. Fenia had been right, of course. The Doctor had needed time to get used to the idea of becoming a father, the father of a human child no less.

When Fenia opened the door, the first thing I noticed was the pair of tiny arms wrapped around her left leg from behind. As she hugged the Doctor, the arms let go a little, and I could see it was Ani as she chanced a glance at me. She looked at me wide-eyed for a moment, and when I reached out and said hello she recognised me, and with a squeal let go of her mother. She promptly landed on her well-padded bum, but she quickly climbed to her feet and staggered towards me, her arms outstretched. I lifted her up and planted a big kiss on her cheek, and she giggled. “Why, Ani, you can walk!” I cried, kissing her other cheek as I settled her on my hip. She giggled again, clutching at the thin fabric of my blouse.

“We thought we'd surprise you,” Fenia said, hugging me carefully.

“It's so good to be back,” I said, holding her tight with my free arm.

Then Ani discovered the Doctor and made grabby fingers and an impatient sound for him to take her and lift her high above his head before cuddling her. He grinned, doing just that as we went inside and Fenia closed the door behind us. Ani giggled even louder.

“Where's Tom?” I asked.

“He's still napping. Ani woke because she must have heard the TARDIS materialise,” Fenia said. “How are you?”

I dropped my hand to my stomach, smiling. “I'm fine.” She gave me and the Doctor a hard look, but seemed satisfied with what she saw, reaching out to play with Ani's naked little foot.

“That's great,” she said, smiling.

I looked at the Doctor with the little girl on his hip and my heart clenched a little. Anyone could see how much he adored her. I couldn't wait to see him with our little one – his chest, I imagined, must be close to bursting with love for his godchild. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd be like with our own child. How could I have ever doubted him?

He caught my eye, a shadow passing over his face like a cloud, but it was quickly gone and he leaned down to kiss my cheek. “You all right?” he whispered, and I nodded, giving his arm a squeeze.

-:-

Later that evening we were at Pagao for dinner. Aside from Yoru's family there were also a couple of his friends from the Observatory and others we hadn't met yet. It was a small dinner party, and the atmosphere was relaxed. Dinner itself was served in the lengthening shadows of the garden, where it was coolest. Tom and Ani were the only children there, and I was glad they had each other to play with. The Doctor played a lot with them, but still I hoped that our child wouldn't have to grow up without a brother or a sister.

The gramophone was a huge success and people were taking turns winding it up and putting on records. There was some dancing and lots of laughter and wine which, of course, I declined. Yoru was taking turns sitting with his guests so he could talk to them, and it was when he noticed that I was having water or juice that I had to tell him about the baby. I'd wanted to tell him in private, without drawing everyone's attention on me.

“It's not that I don't want any wine,” I said. Yoru knew I loved Ruulim wine, despite its strength. “I can't have any for the next couple of months.”

“Are you having a baby?” he asked, his eyes going wide with delight as he realised.

I beamed at him, nodding. He hugged me, whispering to me how happy he was for us. I caught the Doctor's eye over Yoru's shoulder, and he grinned at me, catching Tom as he tripped and nearly fell into the bowl of fruit salad, or what was left of it.

“I'd been wondering,” Yoru said as he let go of me. “You look even more beautiful than ever, accalein.”

I blushed a little. It was good to hear these words from someone else than the Doctor. He was always honest, but sometimes it felt as if he were carefully weighing his words, particularly because he was still mortified about his initial reaction to becoming a father.

“Care for a dance?” Yoru asked, reaching out for me.

“I'd love to.” Yoru was a very good dancer and I loved moving to the music with him. We danced until the record was finished and as we parted I kissed his cheek and wished him happy birthday and many returns.

“You know,” he said, not ready to let go of me, “I was wondering, because I didn't remember mentioning the gramophone, if maybe you would take me with you, on one of your trips. In the TARDIS.” His ears turned a little pink as he asked.

“I think that can be arranged,” the Doctor said, tugging at Fenia's hand as he led her to a dance.

“Did you have anywhere in particular in mind?” I asked as we settled down on the floor cushions.

“Earth. I'd like to see where you are from, Rose. And I'd like to go to a cinema,” he said, the strange word rolling heavily off his tongue. “Did I get it right?”

“Almost,” I laughed. Films didn't exist on Ruul, or wouldn't, according to the Doctor, for another decade or so. We had introduced Yoru, Tayar and Fenia to films on a rainy day, and Yoru had been fascinated by the moving, talking pictures. The whirring of the reels as they revolved on the projector, the slightly jumpy feel the films had to them, with a little dust and the occasional hair in the picture held a certain charm. The Doctor could have chosen to just show them a film right off a hard drive, but he wanted the atmosphere to be right.

The awe and wonder with which the three adults had sat and watched the film and had wanted to know everything about the technology that made this magic of sound and light possible had been eye-opening to me. I had grown up with films; going to the cinema was nothing special to me. Mum hadn't had much money, but there always seemed to be enough of it left for an afternoon or a night out at the pictures. Although we went often, it was still special to me, but I'd never thought about how much I'd taken films for granted.

“Which film would you like to see?”

“I was thinking of Gone with the Wind. When it first came out in London,” he said, his eyes shining.

“Oh,” I said, shivering a little.

Yoru's face fell. “What's wrong, Rose? If it's...”

“The film came out when there was a war on,” I said.


	4. Three

Three

“Also, I wasn't even born when the film came out. What you'll see won't be my London,” I said, holding my arms open for Tom as he stumbled towards me. He let himself fall when he knew he was safe, and I caught and pulled him to sit between my folded legs. Yoru looked more than a little crestfallen, and I was sorry for crushing his enthusiasm like that. But I'd been unable to stop myself. I had seen many photos and documentaries of wartime London, and the memories of them sent shivers down my spine. “I'm sorry, Yoru, I didn't mean to...”

“How bad was the war?” he asked, sipping his wine.

“There are no words for it,” I said.

He smiled bravely. “I'll think of something else. But anyway, you already gave me the beautiful gramophone.” Again, the foreign word rolled clumsily off his tongue.

I sighed. “Yoru, I'll ask the Doctor, yeah? Maybe something can be arranged. I'm sure we could go and see the film in the United States. Where it is from.”

Yoru nodded, reaching out for my hand to give it a little squeeze. “No, thank you, Rose.”

“I'm sorry,” I whispered, running my hands over Tom's soft, dark hair. Tom turned and twisted in my lap to look at me, and I bent to drop a kiss on his forehead. I wondered what our child would look like.

“You'll have beautiful children,” Yoru offered, his tone still solemn. “How long will you be pregnant?”

“I'm ten weeks along, but normally it's about forty,” I said, accommodating Tom in my lap as he began to get drowsy and ready to settle down to sleep.

“That's... long,” Yoru said.

I laughed. “We want him to be perfect.”

“So, the baby, will he be... like you, or like the Doctor?” Yoru asked hesitantly.

“He's human, like me.” Tom had fallen asleep in my arms. I shifted him a little so I could stand up and take him to bed. Yoru rose and took the little boy from me. I stood too, but just before I could follow him, the Doctor and Fenia returned from their dance. The Doctor pulled me into his arms, kissing my ear. I shivered as his breath whispered over my skin.

“Care for a dance?” he asked. Someone had put on a slow song, and I turned in his arms, nodding. He drew me away from the blankets and cushions and we swayed gently to the music. “What's on your mind, Rose?” he asked softly, his lips very close to my ear again.

I told him about Yoru's wish.

He chuckled, twirling me and drawing me back into his arms.

“What's so funny?” I asked, confused.

“I think it's my fault,” the Doctor said. “I told him about the Odeon, the one on Leicester Square. It used to be so... grand before they went and mucked it all up. We really should go.”

I pushed away from him a bit. “What?”

“We should go. If that's what he wants. It would be really very rude not to take him. You know... rude rude, not as in rude and not ginger,” he grinned. Then his face fell when he looked at me and saw the terror and confusion I put into my eyes. “What?”

“Doctor, you... what about the war?”

Then it clicked. “Oh. That.”

I guffawed. We'd been there, and I'd clung to the steel rope of a barrage balloon until Jack had come to my rescue.

“We could go before things get nasty,” he said. “It'll be perfectly safe.” He kissed me tenderly. “Just one night? If we go right after Gone With the Wind opened there won't be any air raids.”

I sighed. I still didn't like the idea, but if I could trust anyone it was the Doctor. He wouldn't do anything to put the baby and me into danger. “'kay, then,” I smiled.

-:-

It was Yoru's first trip in the TARDIS. He'd been inside before, but never before had he experienced her whooshing and the pumping glass cylinders in the central column, heard her thrumming and groaning when the Doctor accidentally pulled one of the levers just a little late. Yoru sat on the jump seat, holding on to the edge of the upholstery and to my hand. He was a little pale, but when the ride calmed and became smooth, and the Doctor announced that we’d entered the Vortex, he visibly relaxed and even chuckled a bit.

“I'm travelling amongst the stars!” he cried, laughing.

“That you are,” the Doctor grinned, leaning against the console, his arms folded in front of his chest. “And in time too. Care to take a look?”

Yoru's eyes went even wider. Struggling for words, he eventually merely nodded.

The Doctor gestured for him to walk to the door with him. “Open it.”

“But...”

“Open it.” The Doctor stepped around Yoru and pulled both sides of the door open. The TARDIS hung suspended outside the Vortex, strategically parked so we would be able to admire the view of a colourful nebula. Ribbons and the thinnest sheets of green, yellow, orange and blue wove in the darkness, illuminated by the stars around which they moved. Yoru went very quiet.

“I can't... it's... overwhelming. How do you ever get used to it?” he asked after a while, tearing his eyes away from the magnificent view to look at me.

“You don't, not really,” I said, overwhelmed at the beauty myself. I had joined the men at the door, and the Doctor had taken my hand. He gave me a little squeeze as he sensed a wave of recognition wash over me as I watched Yoru. This was what it must be like for him to see me experiencing such amazing things for the very first time. I felt a little as though I'd lost my innocence as I answered Yoru, but at the same time I realised that I'd never lose the ability to enjoy and appreciate whatever it was the Doctor would show me.

“How long will it take us to get to London?” he asked.

“As long as you want,” the Doctor said.

“I...” Yoru began, looking a little helplessly from me to the Doctor and back, “I think I'd like to...”

“Materialise soon... ish?” the Doctor suggested.

Yoru nodded in relief. “Yes, please.” He reached for the doors to close them. “It sounds mad... wanting this to end. The beauty out there...”

“The darkness is terrifying. The cold,” the Doctor said gently.

Yoru nodded.

The Doctor let go of me and returned to the console to land the TARDIS. It was a surprisingly smooth landing, announced, as usual, by a soft drum beat. The Doctor gestured for us to precede him out the door. He had landed the TARDIS in the north-west corner of the garden at the centre of the square. It was late spring, but the trees and bushes were in full bloom already, and so I didn't find the place very different from my time, apart from the people's clothes. The TARDIS had provided me with a nice, red dress from the era, and I had attempted to follow the instructions for a hairstyle as they were from a woman's magazine from the day.

“You look beautiful,” the Doctor had whispered as I'd entered the console room before we'd set off. The dress was a little tight across the swell of my stomach and the Doctor, considering that we were going to be sitting for a while watching the film, used his sonic screwdriver to give me a little extra room. Yoru and he didn't change out of their Ruulim suits because they didn't look out of place, apart from their hats, which were a touch too wide-rimmed. Of course The Doctor hardly ever changed into period clothing.

“It's... very green,” Yoru commented, as he stepped out of the TARDIS behind me.

“We're in a garden. They are quite common, but wait until we leave it. It might be a bit overwhelming,” I cautioned. Lufana was a busy city, but it was less crowded than London and its spaciousness gave it quite a different feeling.

As soon as we stepped through the elaborate cast iron gates, the culture shock I had warned Yoru of hit me as well. Leicester Square was truly a square, the garden surrounded on all sides by busy streets. Traffic was pretty heavy, and I took a step back from the kerb as a cyclist whizzed past me. I only knew the square as a pedestrian zone and hadn't been prepared to find it different. Yoru caught me and placed my hand in the crook of his elbow, for mutual support. The Doctor, of course, had walked a couple of steps away from us, revelling in the arrival.

Not only was there more traffic than I'd expected, it was also louder, and the air was even dirtier than in my days. After the sweet, if a little dry, air of Lufana, this was as much of a shock as a slap in the face. And if I felt that way, I wondered how must poor Yoru be feeling.

His expression was a mixture of shock and delight. He took a deep breath, wrinkled his nose and laughed. “Ruulmira, it stinks!” he cried enthusiastically. “Isn't this wonderful, Rose?”

I laughed, relaxing a little.

“Come on, you two!” the Doctor cried, waving our tickets.

That was when I looked up. We were standing in front of the tower of the Odeon, its black granite façade shining like a mirror in the afternoon sun. Giant letters above the main entrance spelled out the title of Yoru's favourite film, and a small crowd was gathering at the doors, some people were already going in. It was and was not different from what I knew the place to be. Going to see a film at the Odeon here, on Leicester Square, had always been a rare treat for me. The tickets here were so expensive that I could see two films at my local cinema for the price of one here. Images of film premieres popped up in my head, of screaming fans and stylish, beautiful actors slowly walking down the red carpet, waving, signing the odd picture.

“So this is it,” Yoru mumbled, covering my hand with his.

“Yep,” the Doctor said, his hands back in his pockets, rocking back onto his heels.

“I... it's different from what I'd imagined,” Yoru said, still smiling.

“I should hope so,” the Doctor grinned. “Ready to go?”

We nodded and followed him across the street, taking advantage of a gap in the traffic. “So many motorcars,” Yoru said, shaking his head. Cars were rare in Lufana, as they must have been here before the Great War. The air was thick and bluish with the exhaust fumes, and I coughed a little when we finally reached the safety of the opposite pavement. I was grateful that the Doctor hadn't chosen to drag us to the opening night but to an ordinary screening. It was more like the real experience, although a posh one. I'd seen lots of old films on the telly, and the image of cinemas as smoky flea pits with couples making out had got stuck firmly in my mind until the Doctor had shaken his head and shown me photos of the Odeon with its lush, patterned carpets, the rippling ceiling and Art Deco balustrades and reliefs, and the faux leopard skin seats.

Since we already had our tickets, we were able to avoid the queues at the box office. The foyer was surprisingly quiet, and both Yoru and I looked around in amazement. The first thing that struck me was that the foyer didn't smell like a cinema. Instead of the sweet, warm scent of popcorn the air was heavy with the stink of cigarettes. I had totally forgotten that in these days there was no smoking ban.

“Here, let me help you,” the Doctor said softly. I let go of Yoru's arm and looked at him. He discreetly produced his sonic screwdriver and worked his magic with it on my nose. Before I knew it, I couldn't smell the smoke any more. “Better now?”

“Yeah, thank you,” I said. He gave Yoru's nose the same treatment. Yoru protested at first, claiming he wanted the whole experience, but gave in when the Doctor told him that inhaling cigarette smoke wasn't really salubrious.

“Good,” he beamed, offering me his arm and catching Yoru's eye. “Shall we?”

Yoru, still overwhelmed, nodded. The Doctor took us up the stairs to the entrance for the circle seats. Following the usherette, we made our way down the thick carpet to the first row, from where we had an excellent view of the screen and the rows upon rows of the leopard print seats beneath us. When I sat down between the Doctor and Yoru, I looked at the auditorium. The ceiling and walls were covered in a ribbed material that concealed the lights. At the bottom of the walls the ribs curled up in stylized waves to match the dancing female figures that rode the waves towards the screen like white horses.

“This is where you watch your films?” Yoru asked in amazement.

“Well,” the Doctor began.

“Not all cinemas are as beautiful as this one,” I whispered, taking in the more intricate patterns now that I had a first impression. “I've never been to one like this.”

The auditorium filled up quickly, and soon it was filled with the buzz of conversation and the bluish haze of cigarette smoke. I was very grateful for whatever it was the Doctor had done to our noses to avoid the fumes. Soon the lights went down and the fire curtain lifted. A newsreel started, making all three of us jump a little when the dramatic music came on over the speakers, accompanied by the excited, upbeat voice of the anchorman. The news covered the events of a naval battle in Norway, the thunder of the cannons somewhat muffled by the tinny sound of the music. I chanced a glance at Yoru, who had gone very still again, watching in horror as the battle unfolded in black and white before us on the silver screen.

“Is that the war you were talking about?” he eventually asked.

“Sh, keep it down, you!” a voice from behind them hissed.

I leaned in to him and whispered my reply.

“It's horrible.”

I sighed, weighing my options. What we saw wasn't even the worst of it, but I didn't have it in me to tell him about the true scale of the war. I didn't want to spoil the visit for him any more than it probably already had been, judging by his reaction.

“No wonder you were so reluctant to come here,” he said softly.

I took his hand. “We're quite safe right now, don't worry.”

“But with all these things going on...”

War was a very hard concept for him to grasp. Lufana had not had a war for centuries; it was stories to them, unimaginable and far away. And while I had never been directly involved in a war, had never really suffered from one, I knew its meaning, having seen it on the news. Still, it was so far away from me. When we had ended up during the Blitz the last time, we hadn't been concerned with the war as much as with the recovery of a stranded Chula ambulance.

“Do you want to stay for the film?” I asked. It, too, was about war, and suddenly it occurred to me how strange it was that a film about a war and, in part, racism had been so successful in times of even more war and genocide inspired by racism. Wouldn't people want to see something different? Of course, the Blitz hadn't started yet, but the film ran for the better part of the war.

“I'm not sure,” Yoru said, his fingers tightening around mine.

“Come on then, let's go,” I said, tugging encouragingly at his hand.

“But we came all the way...” he protested. “No, I... I wanted this, you warned me.”

I nodded, attempting a smile. The newsreel ended and the film started. I sat back, and Yoru let go of my hand almost at the same time as the Doctor reached across the armrest. Grinning, I wrapped my fingers around his, squeezing them gently.

It occurred to me then that the Doctor and I had never been to the pictures together. When we watched a film it was either on the telly in Mum's flat or in the TARDIS library. Which was nice because we could make ourselves comfortable as much as we wanted. Kissing and cuddling in the midst of a darkened auditorium with the lights of the film flickering on our faces and the sound swelling around us was entirely different story, however. We felt as though we were alone, which of course we weren't, and it was about stealing a few moments of intimacy. The awkwardness of having the armrest of a cinema seat pressing into your side and trying to make ourselves as comfortable as possible, to kiss and hold each other became a different experience; one I wanted to share with the Doctor.

I rested my head on his shoulder, a little drowsy after the excitement. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I snuggled closer to him. It hadn't been long since I'd watched the film so it failed to catch my undivided attention. Before I knew it, the Doctor roused me for the interval; I had fallen asleep. It happened quite often to me these days, and I touched the tiny swell of my stomach.

Around us, people were getting up and leaving their seats, and I drew my legs close to me as they tried to walk past us. We had more room for our legs than the other rows, but still I wondered how the Doctor managed. At occasions like this he seemed to be all awkward limbs.

“Hey,” he whispered softly. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I said, blinking in the brightness of the auditorium. “I must have dozed off.”

“Just a little,” he grinned, kissing me. “Thirsty?”

I nodded. “How are you?” I asked Yoru as the Doctor was getting us drinks from the bar in the circle foyer. The air was thick with smoke but I couldn't smell a thing.

“I'm okay now. I'm sorry for... earlier. It is a bit more intense than I had thought, that's all. And that war...” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” I said, studying the pattern of the carpet.

“You fell asleep,” he said.

I laughed. “It's the baby,” I said.

“Oh.”

“Didn't Fenia get tired easily when she had the twins?” I asked.

Yoru shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

“Lucky her.”

We watched people mill about in the foyer for a while, and just when the Doctor returned with our drinks, Yoru blurted, “Melanie reminds me of Alda, my oldest sister.” The sister who had brought him and Fenia up, the sister who had died from the winter fever. I'd had had no idea. I didn't know what to say.

The Doctor nodded. “She's a fine character.”

“Is it that... or does Olivia de Havilland look like her?” I asked, having recovered after a sip of water. I fingered the St Christopher pendant I was wearing. I'd put it on, thinking that it perfectly matched the occasion. When I looked up, I could see the Doctor's eyes fixed on it.

“Both,” Yoru said. “It's why Fenia found it so difficult to watch the film. I... I can't... I miss her so much.” He lowered his gaze to the clear contents of his glass.

“I'm sorry,” I said, touching his arm.

“It's good to see her. I was beginning to forget some things about her. They're not the same, but watching helps to bring back memories. So it's really a good thing,” Yoru said. “It's not... strange, is it?”

“No,” I said.

A couple of minutes later the film resumed, and this time I didn't doze off. I had snuggled up to the Doctor again, and I jumped a little when I felt him touch the pendant in the flickering light. “Not the TARDIS key today?” he asked softly.

“I found it among my things. It suits the dress,” I whispered back, covering his fingers.

“It's a good luck charm.”

“For travellers, yes,” I said. “But I thought you didn't believe in such things.”

“I don't,” he said. “I like it, that's all.” Dropping his hand, he kissed my temple and returned his gaze to the screen where Scarlett was making a new dress from green curtains.

-:-

It was dark out when the film was over and we stepped through the engraved glass doors out into the street. The traffic had decreased somewhat, and all the lights of the theatres and clubs on the square had come on. It was not as bright as in the 21st century, but it wasn't as dark as I'd imagined it to be either. It was definitely brighter than Lufana on a full moon.

“Thank you!” Yoru said, hugging first me, then the Doctor. “This means so much to me.”

The Doctor grinned, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers once he had put on his hat.

“Can we go to a chippy?” I asked, feeling a little hungry. I was hungry and it had been a while since I’d had chips; we’d not had time to get them when I was sorting through mum’s and my things at the flat.

Yoru looked from me to the Doctor with interest sparkling in his eyes. The lights were glittering in his eyes, highlighting his question. I explained to him what a chippy was.

A few corners away there was a small chippy that satisfied the Doctor's standards, and soon we sat at a small table, each of us with a bowl of chips before us. The Doctor wanted me to have some fish as well, but there was something about the taste and texture that made me recoil. After I had reminded him that pregnant women did not only have craving but also can't stomach certain things any more, he had finally given in and only gotten me chips. They were great, and I soon felt better, not having realised that I had been more than a little shaky. We shared our opinions on the film, the cinema and the night as a whole, the Doctor eating his chips mostly in silence, watching us. It was a rare moment that he didn't join in the conversation, and at one point I reached across the table to cover his hands with mine. He leaned in to kiss me, and I tasted the oil and salt on his lips.

When we left, we ran into the crowd of theatre goers, and I linked arms with both men so we didn't lose each other; there was the odd wolf-whistle from passers-by as they saw us, and once the Doctor bumped into a guy who apologised profusely for his clumsiness.

The Doctor took us back to Lufana, and we arrived only a couple hours after we'd left, as if our night out had only taken us to the new part of the city on the other side of the river. We had promised we would go to Sho before turning in at Pagao, to let Tayar and Fenia know that everything had gone well and that Yoru did indeed return safely.

He was about to open the door and step out into Pagao's garden when the Doctor froze.

“Doctor?” I asked, stepping up to him.

“I...” he frowned, patting down his pockets. “The... erm... Oh no! I've been so thick!” he cried, running his fingers through his hair.

“What is it, Doctor?” Yoru asked, puzzled.

“That bloke in the street, he was a pick-pocket. He took my wallet,” the Doctor said, dropping his hand and turning away from us, taking a couple of steps towards the console before turning yet again and coming back.

“Oh.”

The wallet contained the psychic paper.

“We'll have to go back for it!” Yoru insisted. He knew about the psychic paper, but I doubted he fully grasped what losing it during the Second World War meant – even I didn't, because my knowledge was limited to what I'd learned about it at school. But is was enough to make me shiver.

“Yes,” I said. “Surely, the TARDIS will be able to pick it up, yeah? There's some sort of... marker that makes it stand out?”

“Alien piece of technology in 1940?” the Doctor asked, sighing. “Yeah, we might actually get more than we bargained for.”

“You mean...?” I whispered, unable to put words to my thoughts.

“Yep,” he said, popping the p, and rushing back to the console, where he started preparing for another journey. “Are you coming with us?” the Doctor asked Yoru.

“Of course! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have had it stolen,” he said.

The Doctor nodded, made a few adjustments, then flicked a switch, and – “Allons-y!” – off we went.


	5. Four

Four

Humming to myself, I stretched and slid my hand to the swell of my stomach. The little gesture had become the first thing I did in the morning, before anything else. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see if I was alone; the Doctor's pillows lay untouched, and I curled up again. The Doctor had undressed me and put me to bed. Since I didn't remember going to our bedroom, I must have fallen asleep in the console room while he had been searching for the psychic paper. What time was it anyway? How long had I slept?

I seemed always to be sleeping these days, but he never said anything; there had been a time when he'd complained about my body's need for sleep, or had made fun of it. But eventually, he had settled into some kind of a sleeping pattern himself, settling down with me for about an hour. He hardly ever pushed his cycle any more, and although he didn't admit it, I knew he felt better for it.

“Hey,” he said softly, rising from the chaise longue beneath the window that looked over the garden. He gave the wind chimes a nudge as he stood and crossed the room to come and kneel next to my side of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, reaching out for him. He had already shaved; to my surprise, he was dressed in one of his Ruulim three-piece suits without the jacket and the waistcoat unbuttoned. “Did you find the psychic paper?” I asked, trying to shake off my sleepiness. I ran my hand along his arm where he had rolled up the shirt sleeve.

“It's a bit more complicated than that. But I know where to look,” he said.

“That's good, yeah?”

He lowered his head, smiling. “Yeah.” He took my hand and kissed it and the tattoo. He was such a bad liar.

“What is it?” I asked.

“We're not in 1940 any more, Rose. Or in London, for that matter.”

“But?” I asked, sitting up. The covers slid down my body, exposing my chest. For a few heartbeats the Doctor's eyes were fixed on my breasts and he licked his lips. Then he rose and sat on the edge of the bed. “Doctor, where are we?”

He wasn't going to let me go with him. We both knew that. But we also knew that I wasn't going to stay behind, despite the baby. “I promise you I will be very careful,” I said, drawing up the duvet to cover myself. He would never argue with me half-naked.

He sighed. “I'd never forgive myself if anything should happen to you or the baby,” he said, bending a little to lean his forehead against mine. His hand went into my hair and he moved to kiss me gently. “Promise.”

“I do, I promise,” I whispered, then I kissed him. “So where are we?”

“Somewhere outside Florence, in the Chianti Hills. A small town,” he said.

I was about to say that that didn't sound too bad. The Allied troops pushed the Germans back north as they advanced through Italy to liberate Europe, didn't they? And how had the psychic paper gotten all the way to Italy from London? That was quite a journey for a wallet, through war-torn countries no less. But I had been with the Doctor long enough to know that there was more to come, and that that more was the bit that made things really complicated.

“It's July 1944,” he said, sitting back. “We're in occupied territory. German-occupied territory.”

“Can't you look for the wallet somewhere or... somewhen else?” I asked. Surely, there must...

He shook his head. “No, this is the first trace of it I can find; no one's used it. But obviously,” he said, rising, “someone discovered what it can do. And I'd like it back before they can do serious damage. And they will.”

I nodded, a little overwhelmed. There were a couple of ideas that sprang immediately to mind, but among them were some that could actually make a difference for the better. All the same, it could change history, and obviously this was not one of the occasions when history should be changed just because someone was trying to meddle with it. “Do you have any idea of where to start?” I asked.

Of course he did. “Silly question,” I said sheepishly, pushing him off the edge of the bed so I could get up.

As I was about to step away from him to go to the bathroom he took my hand and pulled me towards him. He ran the backs of his fingers over my stomach, then he smoothed his palm against the soft swell. “You're so beautiful, Rose.”

I blushed. My clothes were getting snug and I was tired all the time. He stood and gathered me in his arms. “Promise me you'll be careful,” he whispered, holding me close.

“Only if you do too,” I said, knowing that it was unfair to ask him that. We were going to be in a war-torn town. It was bound to be dangerous. I bit my lip, saying nothing about being jeopardy-friendly and my determination to get him back, no matter what. He knew all that, and the situation was difficult enough for him as it was. I would be careful. But I would not allow for any harm to come to either him or Yoru.

“I promise,” I said. He nodded solemnly, and after a quick kiss he let me go.

-:-

The TARDIS had materialised in the corner of what seemed to be a disused ball room in bad need of a sweep and a touch of paint. Or a couple of ceiling panels and roof tiles. The Doctor stepped into a pool of light as he opened the door. As he looked up, he could see the deep blue sky above him. His steps swirled up clouds of dust and dried leaves as he made way to let Yoru and me join him.

The hall was dim where the light coming in from the hole in the roof and the slats of the shutters didn't reach. The floorboards creaked satisfyingly beneath our feet. At the far end of the room was a huge collection of garden furniture, tools, various baskets and an assortment of luggage, including a wardrobe trunk.

“Seems like a good spot,” the Doctor murmured before he went back to the TARDIS to lock her up. He had barely stepped away from her when she shimmered out of existence; or visibility, rather. “She's hiding herself away. Just to make sure.”

Yoru nodded. He put on his hat and nodded towards one of the French doors that lined one length of the ball room. The Doctor manipulated one of the locks with a whir of the sonic screwdriver, undid the latch of the shutters and stepped outside. The midday sun was unforgiving and it felt as though we had to push or way outside through a sheet of heat. The air was dry and hot and full of herbs. A cacophony of crickets and the squeaks of the swallows welcomed us.

A young woman of about my age stepped from between the bay bushes and cypresses lining the tiled patio onto which the French doors gave. She was wearing a simple, faded dress and her dark hair was done pixie style but was in need of a cut. She almost looked like an elf with her fine, chiselled nose and lips.

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something but the woman bet him to it. “Well, we hadn't expected you to arrive through here,” she said. “But it makes sense. My name is Giorgia.”

“Hello, Giorgia. I'm the Doctor,” the Doctor said cheerfully.

Giorgia looked at him levelly, although I could tell that his greeting had upset her. “We don't use our code names here,” she said.

“Oh,” the Doctor said. “Oh! Yes, of course. Giovanni, and this is Roberto and Rosa.” He used the names we had agreed on in the console room. The Doctor had located the psychic paper with a group of partisans. Getting it back would be more difficult because they were unlikely to give it up once they had worked out how they could use it. At least it had fallen into the hands of people who were trying to make a difference, to make things better and help people.

I also knew that that made our mission more dangerous than we had expected. The Doctor and Yoru were going to try and win the trust of the partisans and get the psychic paper back. As for me, well, there was not really a job for me in all this. But both the Doctor and I knew that I would not stay in the TARDIS doing nothing, not when she was hiding herself away from the world, which would make it impossible for me to leave her.

To Giorgia and her aunt we'd be bombed-out relatives from Rome.

And then I realised. Giorgia, if not her aunt too, were part of the local resistance unit. However the Doctor had learned about them and won their trust I could not even begin to imagine. There were probably a couple of letters involved, information, and his charm. A great deal of charm, if the way Giorgia was looking at the Doctor was anything to go by.

I smiled at Giorgia as she looked from Yoru to me as Giovanni introduced us. Grinning, I mouthed the name as Giorgia turned around and the Doctor looked at me. He merely shrugged, grinning sheepishly. I wondered how Smith translated into Italian.

We followed Giorgia along a tiled path running along the outer wall of what seemed to be a grand old villa to another patio, this one was covered by a pergola and vines. There were actually grapes in the old, gnarled boughs, but they were still small and very green. I wondered if they were edible at all.

It was considerably cooler in the natural shade of the pergola. The patio was large enough to fit a long, wooden table with benches and a sturdy chair were easily accommodated, along with a hammock strung between posts of the pergola and a massive old sideboard. An elderly woman was seated in the chair at the head of the table, doing some paperwork. She looked up at our approaching footsteps, her eyes narrowed a little and her forehead furrowed. She slowly put he pencil down and straightened a little in her chair.

“Look who's arrived, Zia,” Giorgia said.

“Ah, finally. Prego, s'accomodi,” she said, smiling. Her voice was dark and smoky. She gestured for them to sit on the benches to either side of her. Giorgia's aunt rang a little bell and a maid appeared, she was instructed to get lunch ready and bring their guests something to drink. Yoru's eyes were wide as he took everything in. I wanted to reach out to reassure him. This must be even more overwhelming for him than London. At least then he had been prepared for what to expect, but truth be told, I felt a bit overwhelmed as well.

“Salvo has told me everything,” the old lady continued after the maid had left. The Doctor, his lips pursed, nodded slowly. She looked form him to me to Yoru. Then she realised. “But obviously, he has failed to tell you,” she concluded.

“I'm afraid so,” the Doctor said.

Giorgia's aunt tutted, shaking her head. “There's a time and place for secrecy, but this certainly is not it, not if we want our plan to succeed,” she said.

“My cousin can be a little over-protective,” Giorgia explained.

“Salvo, right?” the Doctor asked. “He never even told me your name, Signora.”

The signora barked out a laugh. “The boy is ridiculous.” Then she sobered. “He does have a point, though. But, as I said, he's also a little misguided. He wants to impress the others a little too much.”

“I'm afraid I don't understand,” Yoru began.

Marta looked at him hard. “Salvo has not told you much, has he?”

Yoru shook his head, still baffled that he should understand and speak a foreign language so perfectly although all he had was his native Ruulim. I felt for him. It had been the same for me when I'd started travelling with the Doctor.

“No, he hasn't,” I said. I didn't even know who Salvo was. I wondered if the Doctor knew more about what he had gotten us into than he let on, and I felt anger rising inside me for not telling us. If he wanted us to be careful and as safe as possible, he had to enlighten us. Otherwise, this wouldn't work.

Just then, the maid returned with wine, water and bread. Marta apologised profusely for the frugality of the meal, which consisted of cheese, olives, grilled vegetables and a little cold meat. The maid carried the dishes out from the kitchen and placed platter after platter before us on the polished surface of the old table. It was the best Italian food I'd had in ages.

“The food must be even poorer in the city, I suppose, and harder to come by,” Marta said. “It's a little easier out here, with the farms. Of course, having a little extra money for the black market helps. Please, eat. Help yourselves.”

Eager hands reached out to take the plates and cutlery from the maid and set the table. After the girl had left, Marta started to explain.

“As far as the authorities are concerned, Fascist or Nazi, I am Contessa Marta Guidotti. But everyone else just calls me Contessa – so that's not my code name. You,” she said, letting her gaze wander from the Doctor to me to Yoru, “will call me zia. We are family after all, no? I have arranged for a little get-together tonight so you can meet the rest of the family, and some friends.”

“Thank you, Zia,” Yoru said, sipping his wine. He smacked his lips in appreciation as he tasted his first ever wine from Earth. It occurred to me that we should have introduced him much earlier to our version, but neither the Doctor nor I were what you would consider connoisseurs. I made a mental note to change that once we were back on Ruul, and once I could safely do so again. Zia had of course raised an eyebrow when I'd declined a glass of wine.

“It's not a good idea for me to drink right now,” I said.

“Oh, so congratulations are in order?” Marta asked. The Doctor gave himself away with his grin and as he reached across the table to cover my hand. Marta smiled. “You should be careful, Giovanni, with your face. It's easy to read.”

The Doctor blushed slightly, but quickly recovered. “Don't worry, Zia.” I nodded to confirm what he'd said, but I knew that her comment about reading him had hit a sore point.

-:-

“Am I really an open book?” the Doctor promptly asked once we were alone. The maid who had served us lunch had shown us to our room. Sunlight was filtering in through the slats of the shutters, but the windows were thrown wide to let in air. The temperature in the room was pleasant, and once my eyes had adjusted to the dim light, I saw that it was very spacious. There was a fireplace that dominated the far wall, and set before that was an antique wooden bed. A simple folding screen – cream-coloured linen on a black iron frame – hid a washstand and chair in one corner of the room. The bathroom was across the hall. A dark wardrobe, a set of chairs around a small table and a chaise longue completed the furniture.

“You can be,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing off my shoes. It felt good to be out of them. I felt drowsy after the heat and the food.

The Doctor remained quiet. It was obvious that he didn't like my answer, but he also knew that it was true. It was probably more of a problem to him because Marta had sussed him out so quickly. “Come here,” I said, patting the bed beside me.

He sat heavily. “This might be more complicated than I thought,” he said.

I scoffed. “What, you expected they'd hand over the wallet if you charmed the knickers off them? Not with Marta, and Giorgia seems even tougher. These people have a lot to lose, Doctor. They will give us a hard time until they feel they can trust us. No matter what you told them to begin with.”

“I know!” he cried. “I know.” He took my hand. “I just wish...”

“Well, it's too late for that now. I'm having a baby, I'm not an invalid,” I said. “Let me help you, and let me be the judge of what I can do and what I can't.”

He turned, tucking his leg under. “I... I can't let you do that, Rose.”

I sighed. “You'll have to trust me on this, Doctor.”

He kissed me, and I knew then that this was about me trusting him. There was something he wasn't telling me, something he couldn't tell me, and it kept me wondering what it was. He deepened the kiss and drew me close, and while part of me protested and was unwilling to succumb to him, there was another part that wanted him to shut me up with his lips and tongue. I wanted to give myself over to him and forget about everything as he made love to me.

Which he did, muffling my cries with his hand or his mouth. When he slipped into me from behind I pressed my face into the pillow so we couldn't be heard on the vine-covered patio below. I loved it when he was behind me and his hands pressed on my back or drew me towards him. He'd use his fingers to pleasure me as well, but he wanted to look at me. So after he had made me scream into the pillow, he gently turned me around. He pushed back in, keeping his weight off me. His eyes, however, locked on mine as he picked up the rhythm, the bed patient, only softly groaning in time to his thrusts as I locked my ankles behind his back.

“Rose,” he panted, again and again, until he stopped, buried inside me, his lids fluttering shut as he turned his scream inwards. I could feel him pulse inside me and clenched around him, getting a little pleasure from his. I bit my lip. “Rose!” he breathed, sliding out of me and dropping his dead weight beside me onto the bed. I rolled towards him for comfort, knowing that he benefited from the gesture more than I did. Which was right too, because it was the last time we made love without the fear and the uncertainty that would be in our bed for a very long time.


	6. Five

Five

I should have seen it coming, but I never considered it a real possibility because I'd always thought that we would get the psychic paper back fairly quickly. I guess it was wishful thinking; I wanted to get this taken care of quickly so we could get back to safety quickly and I assumed the Doctor would want the same thing. I had seen it in his eyes; he would have preferred me to stay behind on Ruul, but that had never been an option. I was beginning to wonder if maybe the time had come for him to have his adventures by himself. But the idea was more than a little unsettling; he needed someone by his side. His job was not the traditional 9-5 where the husband comes home to his wife at the end of the day. Saving the universe didn’t work like that.

The Doctor gave me a wedding ring.

He slid it onto my finger at the end of kitallun – siesta it was called here, of course – just as I woke from my nap. It was a perfect fit but it felt strange, and I kept touching it. It was beautiful, white gold with a small diamond sitting on a thin, engraved line. “I want you to have this, iyo,” he said. He was sitting on his side of the bed, still undressed, his fingers tugging at his earlobe as he noticed my questioning glance. He knew I never wanted a ring. His name and his vows on my skin meant so much more than a piece of jewellery, beautiful though it was.

And then I realised. “Will it keep me safe?” I asked.

“It'll at least keep you respectable,” he said. He reached for the sonic screwdriver on the bedside table behind him. The ease with which he moved, obviously very comfortable around me in his nakedness, sent a frisson of desire through me.

I could see his point. The Italians wouldn't recognise the tattoo for what it was. I lifted my wrist and traced the blue lines with my fingertips. The Doctor took my wrist, brushing his thumb over the lines, then raised it to kiss the tattoo, like he so often did. I swallowed hard. I didn't like the idea of not bearing his name and his vows, the gift of him, on my skin. But I knew it had to be done.

His eyes found mine, and I nodded. He switched on the sonic, and the blue lines began to grow faint and then disappear as he moved it over my wrist. Then it was gone. “It's still there,” he whispered. “I just hid it.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, withdrawing my hand from his grasp, covering the pale, naked skin with my other hand. The sonic had left behind a tickling sensation. “Why didn't you tell me?” I asked.

“Tell you what?”

He still had his tattoo, I noticed. I plucked the sonic from his fingers and took his wrist.

“That we'll be here long enough to make this necessary,” I said evenly.

“I didn't know. I wasn't sure. I hoped we'd...” he said. He heaved a sigh. “Rose.”

I looked up from where I was running my thumb over the lines of his tattoo.

“They're doing the right thing with the psychic paper,” he said. “I can't stop them right now.”

I started to move the sonic screwdriver over his wrist, and, just like mine, his tattoo faded and disappeared altogether eventually. “Don't tell me,” I said. It wasn't because I didn't want to hear it; it was because I thought I'd be safer not knowing. Just in case.

“You're not... mad?” he asked.

I sighed, switching off the sonic. “I'm not happy, but I suppose it's about saving lives. How could I stop you?”

“I love you, iyo,” he said, taking the sonic from me. Then he leaned in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

I only smiled, cupping his cheek.

-:-

The Doctor and Yoru left the next morning, when the light was colourless but the first birds were already announcing the start of a new day. I woke as the Doctor moved around in our room, washing and getting dressed. I watched him in the dim light. He had to leave on some mission; he wouldn't tell me anything about it. I didn't like it, but the fewer people who knew about the partisans' plans the better. The fact that I was excluded from this adventure certainly did play a role in this too. Although I had to admit that this was hardly an adventure; this was about life and death. But at least Yoru would be going with him.

“Iyo,” I said.

“Hush, my love, go back to sleep,” he said, crouching next to me.

“When will you be back?” I asked, reaching out to rake my nails over his stubble. The thought crossed my mind that he had become a different man already, and I shivered slightly. He tugged the thin sheet over my bare shoulder when he noticed.

“Soon.” He kissed me good-bye. Then he left.

I rolled over to lie on my back, throwing one hand onto the pillow by my face and caressing the baby with the other. This wasn't unlike our early days in Sho. I had felt just as abandoned and unsure what to do with myself. But this was much worse. The villa was not my house, there was a war on and I couldn't fill my days with learning the language.

Eventually I dozed off and was roused by a knock on the door. “Signora?” I heard the maid ask.

“Yes, I'm awake,” I mumbled.

“Breakfast will be ready soon.”

After I'd used the bathroom and washed I slipped on the clothes I'd worn the day before. I would have liked to put on something fresh, particularly underwear, but I hadn't brought any extra clothes. I had to pretend to be a bombed-out refugee, after all. I should have washed my knickers last night, but when we'd finally tumbled into bed I was too tired of think of practicalities like that.

Breakfast was a cup of caffè latte and a sweet roll, fresh from the oven. I wondered how they came by this food, but then I remembered that Zia was nobility, and that she probably also benefited from the use of the psychic paper. It was only Zia and me for breakfast, and the maid had set a table on the formal terrace. There was only a sunshade, but the morning sun wasn't too hot yet, and the view was breathtaking.

The gardens that were part of the estate swept down a steep slope beneath the terrace and eventually flattened. The slope was silvery-green with olive trees on either side of a gravel path that led down to the garden proper. Beyond the garden were the Chianti Hills, dense with vine and olive trees and forest.

“It looks so peaceful,” I said, flattening my hands against the top of the balustrade.

“We've been quite lucky. The commandant in charge of our town is one of the more reasonable ones,” Zia said from where she was sitting at the table.

I turned around to look at the grey stone and cream brick façade of the villa. The windows were narrow and shuttered, hidden a little behind double arches supported by a slender marble column. Beneath the eaves I could see a loggia running the length of the house. The roof itself was covered with pale pink terracotta tiles. It was the perfect romantic holiday spot.

“It's beautiful,” I said, joining Zia at the table and sitting down.

“It's been in our family for centuries,” she said. “And I intend to keep it that way.”

“Where's Giorgia?” I asked.

“She had to leave for work,” Zia said, stirring sugar into her coffee. “Allora, we'll have to work a little on your back story today, and then we'll see what you can do here. You are not too...” She trailed off, unsure how to put it, but her gaze settled on my stomach.

I covered it with one hand. “No, I'm fine. I'd love to make myself useful.”

“Benissimo.”

We started to work on my back story. Since no one had seen us arrive, I could easily say that my husband was off fighting while I'd had to come up here for safety. I would pass myself off as a distant relative to satisfy the townspeople's curiosity. Zia said that the Guidotti family was well-respected in the area, and the majority of them were decent, but of course there were exceptions, especially in these trying times.

“Now, Giovanni,” Zia continued, “he's a close friend of his from university.”

I frowned. “Of who?”

“Roberto,” Zia said.

“It's not even a lie,” I said.

“Good, good. The less we have to make up, the better, the less chance we'll get it wrong when push comes to shove,” Zia said. “He's also your lover.”

I nearly choked on my coffee. “Wait... Giovanni's my husband... and Roberto my lover?” This hit very close to home. Yoru had been falling in love with me when we'd first met. He gave up on me when he realised that the Doctor and I were a couple; he'd been very embarrassed, and I can only imagine how that hurt him. We'd never talked about it. I felt very bad about dismissing this, him, so readily. We had become close friends; sometimes I regarded him as my brother, but really I had no way of knowing how he felt.

“No, it's the other way round. Giovanni is your lover. We need an excuse for him to turn up here now and again,” Zia said, faltering. “Giovanni is your husband, right?”

“Yes.”

Zia nodded. “I'm sorry it has to be this triangle. Gio and you are so obviously in love with each other that I'm afraid no one would believe that you'd take a lover when you are so happy.”

That made sense, but it was also embarrassing. People had often thought we were a couple, even back when we weren't. “What about the baby?” I asked. “It is my lover's, yeah?”

“I'll leave that up to you. It's just important that you tell me as much about your back story as possible. Write it down, but don't copy it. I'll make sure that everyone who needs to know will, and then I'll burn it.”

We finished breakfast in silence. Zia rang the little bell that she seemed to carry with her wherever she went. A minute later the maid appeared with a wheelchair. “Riding accident when I was young,” Zia said. The maid helped her to shift from the patio chair into the wheelchair. All I could do was watch a little dumbly. I hadn't realised. Of course I had noticed that Zia didn't move around much, but I'd put that down to her age and distinction, that it was some strange quirk of hers.

“Tell me what to do,” I said.

“You don't do anything, cara,” Zia said. “Not while you're busy making a baby.”

I wanted to tell her that I wasn't an invalid just because I was pregnant, but Zia's dark blue eyes hardened, forbidding any protest. I snapped my mouth shut.

“I'm afraid I can't give you the complete grand tour of the estate. Feel free to explore the grounds,” Zia said mildly. “There are quite a few nice spots where you'll have some peace and quiet to come up with your story.”

“Let me at least push you while you show me the accessible parts,” I said, rising.

Zia nodded, and I wheeled her into the dimness of the shuttered salon.

-:-

I spent the rest of the day exploring the estate. The garden beyond the olive grove was beautiful and well-kept. Zia protested at first, concerned that I would overtax myself because even the long way around, through the ball room and past the out buildings, the path to the garden was quite steep. She was right, of course, and pushing her back up the hill proved a little more difficult than I’d anticipated. A little exercise couldn't hurt, though.

The ground floor was taken up by several salons, an office, and Zia's suite of rooms. “The library is upstairs. We couldn't move that, but Salvo takes me up there. Or Luisa brings me what I need.”

“I worked at a library for a while,” I mused, looking up the stone flight of stairs in the entrance hall.

“You did?” Zia asked, delighted. “Well, if it's not too much to ask, I have quite a few new books that need adding to the collection upstairs. Maybe you could help me with that?”

“I'd love to,” I said, glad to know I had something else to do apart from waiting for the Doctor and Yoru to return from their mission.

There was a part of the garden that was inaccessible to Zia; it was shady and quiet, a little unkempt and exactly what I needed to gather my thoughts. It reminded me a little of the park next to Sho. Also, there was a low wall encircling the area, from where I had the loveliest view of San Girolamo. It was a mediaeval town with lots of towers reaching into the blue sky. A country lane lined by cypress trees led from the villa to the town; it was about a fifteen minute walk, and Zia encouraged me to visit the town regularly to make my presence known there. The townspeople would find out about me soon enough, so I might as well behave normally. “Walking is good for you, yes?” Zia asked.

“Yes,” I said, biting the inside of my mouth when I thought that I was more used to running, but those days were over for the time being.

I found a stone bench in the shade of a gnarled holly oak where I made myself comfortable to write down the sordid tale of my husband and my lover. I tried to follow Zia's advice as closely as possible, to come up with as many details as possible so I wouldn't need to invent something off the top of my head that neither the Doctor nor Yoru would know anything about, and vice versa. At the same time, I committed this fictional me to memory.

At dinner I showed what I’d come up with to Zia, and together we worked a little on the details. “Taking on someone else's identity doesn't seem to be very hard for you. Not that I'm judging you,” she said.

I shrugged. “We all play roles in our lives, don't we? I guess I've just a little more practise than most people.” Travelling with the Doctor had certainly taught me a lot about constructing stories for myself or at least not giving away who I was. Now, I realised, how important that could be. But I also wondered how far you could go playing those games before you began to lose yourself. It was a good thing that we had Lufana to return to, and when this was over I would ask the Doctor to stay there until after our child was born.

We worked until late into the evening, and it was only when I bade Zia good night that she suddenly exclaimed. “You don't have any clothes. Mamma mia, we'll have to do something about that first thing tomorrow. I'm sorry I completely forgot that.”

“Thank you,” I said, making a mental note to wash my underwear so I had something halfway fresh to put on the next day.

-:-

Day 3

Fenia colian, keri,

Forgive me for writing to you. I'm afraid there is no other way for me to make sense of what is going on, and I need someone to talk to, someone to address, someone I know who will actually read these letters when all this is over. You know I don't like diaries, but unless I write down my thoughts I fear I won't be able to move on, or remember properly when we're back.

This has already taken longer than I thought it would. Even the Doctor had no idea what we were in for when he told us his wallet had been stolen. I think we will be here on Earth for a long time.

There are different regions here, and at the moment, most of them are at war with one of them, and those that aren't actively involved are affected in some way. It is really hard to understand. It is all based on the belief that a certain race of mankind – that's what they call themselves on Earth, mankind or humanity – is superior to all the others. I cannot even begin to understand that, because from what the Doctor has told us I know that mankind is, if sometimes a little wrong, basically a decent species. Or not. There is a lot of warfare on this beautiful planet.

I've only seen London, Rose's home town, and the region, or “country” as they call it, of Italy. The part of Italy where we are is not so very different from Lufana, so at least there are some familiar things. All the magic of the TARDIS is incredible, and you can see from the fact that I am randomly skipping from topic to topic how hard it is for me to go through my thoughts and present them in some kind of order. My apologies for that, keri.

The TARDIS translates everything for me. When we were in London I spoke and understood English, and here in Italy I speak and understand Italian. It's amazing, and I don't even try to understand exactly how that is possible. Don't laugh, keri, I know it's hard to imagine, but sometimes you just have to accept the wonders of the universe. That's what travelling with the Doctor is like. It is a blessing, this translation circuit, because I can pass myself off as a local, at least when it comes to the language. There is no accent – Rose and the Doctor, when they speak Ruulim, they do not use the circuit. That is real, and that is why they sound a little different, why they have such wonderful accents.

Anyway. The Doctor and I have found the psychic paper. It wasn't hard to track down. What makes retrieving it hard is the fact that the paper found its way to the “right” people, if you will. The right people are resistance fighters, ordinary people who are brave enough to stand up to those spreading tyranny. They save lives. There are a lot of soldiers here, but there are also people who, for reasons I can not begin to understand, are considered ‚imperfect’ based solely on their race. The people not a part of the ‚superior’ race must hide or they will be displaced and/or killed. Documents can save their lives, small slips of paper that contain the right message can decide if a person lives or dies. The psychic paper can save those lives.

How can we not put that to good use?

So this is what the Doctor and I are doing here. We have become resistance fighters to help these poor people. I only wonder when the Doctor will stop, when he will decide it's enough. According to him, this war goes on for another ten months. I cannot imagine being away from home that long. Nor can I imagine the TARDIS child to be born here, in the middle of a war. Rose is safe, she is not part of the resistance. I wonder how long she will allow the Doctor to stay here. It is a worthy cause we're fighting, which makes the decision to leave so difficult. I am torn, keri, I want to help these people, but I also want to return home.

War is a horrible thing, and I cannot imagine Lufana to have ever been held in its crushing fist.

M'aruu, keri, and stay safe.


	7. Six

Six

While Giorgia was gone – ‘visiting family’ – the only other person living at the villa apart from Luisa the housekeeper was Piero, a man in his fifties who looked after the estate. I didn't get to see him often as he was quite busy, and when he actually came to the villa it was to discuss business with Zia in the privacy of her study. Piero took Zia to town once a week, usually on Thursday, in a horse-drawn carriage. Zia's car had been requisitioned by the Germans in San Girolamo, which was just as well since petrol was very hard to come by, no matter how respected or influential you were.

Our first trip to town had been delayed by an emergency in one of the smaller farms attached to the estate. It had taken Piero the whole day to sort the crisis, and so I'd had to wait another day for new clothes. By then I had perfected the full story of the love triangle between Robert, Gio, and me. The evening before we finally went to town Zia told me that she'd had the letter passed on to them. She'd made me repeat the story several times, asking tricky questions to make sure I had it all straight and there were no obvious holes in it.

It was mid-morning when I pushed Zia out into the drive. Piero and the carriage were already there, and I was quite surprised to see that we'd have to sit on the coach seat since the carriage only had a cargo area. “There's some business we'll have to conduct in town,” Zia explained brightly.

When Piero lifted her up onto the coach seat I noticed for the first time the tender glances they exchanged. Both of them radiated tension, however, and, puzzled by what I'd seen, I averted my eyes to give them some privacy. The tension was not caused by the tender moment between them, of that I was sure. They were keeping something from me. I was so distracted that I didn't notice Piero's hand as he offered me his help to climb onto the coach seat next to Zia. She smiled briefly at me, but she had recovered from her nerves – or whatever it was – and I couldn't read her any more.

Seeing them exchange the loving glance made me feel like an intruder and I also couldn't help thinking that this wasn't unlike catching your parents kissing. Until then I'd never known the feeling – Shareen would occasionally tell me about it, but I'd never been able to relate to her. I didn't even know what it must be like to grow up with a father.

I wondered why they were so secretive about their relationship; they certainly didn't need to hide it from me. I was hiding myself, after all. But maybe that was the reason. The less I knew – or anyone knew, for that matter – the safer everyone was. But I'd never been on the receiving end of this eyes-only policy and I couldn't help feeling frustrated and a bit excluded. The Doctor didn't tell me everything that was going on – sometimes he just forgot to tell me, or hoped for me to ask him the right question – but he never excluded me from things.

I hadn't been in a carriage since our Roman adventure so I'd conveniently forgotten how bumpy this way of travelling was. Now that I was sitting high up on the coach seat the shaking and rolling seemed stronger than I remembered. The drive to town was short, but by the time we arrived I felt so queasy that I was glad to get off; it occurred to me that this was a bit of payback for the fact that my morning sickness had been relatively mild.

“You look a bit pale, Rosa,” Zia said as Piero lifted her off the coach seat and into her chair. He settled her down gently and she made herself comfortable. “Are you all right?”

“Just a bit of motion sickness,” I said. “I think it's because of the baby.”

Zia merely nodded, then she gestured for me to push her to the town hall. We were in a square lined by old, grey and sand-coloured palazzi, an impressive Romanesque church and with a well at its centre. Some of the buildings were festooned with Nazi flags and I felt a surge of hatred well up inside me that made me forget my nausea. This was so wrong.

I pushed Zia towards the equally decked out town hall so that I could register my new ration book and satisfy the bureaucratic need to keep their files in order. I was shaking as I sat in a chair opposite one of their officials; his Italian was heavily accented, and sometimes he slipped in a German word or two. Although I knew that to him I was Italian, I hoped he'd not pick up on anything foreign about me, that some small gesture would betray me. He asked me quite a few questions and I was glad for the drilling that Zia had given me because I was able to to answer all the questions without hesitating. He signed the papers with a flourish and startled me when he slammed the seal onto it.

“Thank you,” I said as he passed them to me. Then I stood, glad to be able to finally leave the cold, airless room.

“Oh, you are pregnant,” he said, wide-eyed, rising as well.

My hand went down to cover my stomach instinctively. “Yes,” I said.

“You're entitled to a better ration book, Signora Pagao,” he said, rummaging in a drawer and pulling out another ration book and filling in the information. This time, when he stamped the document, he didn't startle me. Still, my heart was racing and I felt a little dizzy. I couldn't shake the notion that any minute now he'd discover who I really was.

But he just gave me the new ration book with a smile. “Congratulations to you and your husband. I have a little boy too. He's just two months now,” he said.

I nodded, smiling, and thanked him again. Zia was waiting for me in the hall downstairs, chatting amiably to a young girl who appeared to be working for the magistrate. When she saw me, her expression became one of deep concern and she wheeled herself over to me. It was only when she took my hand that I noticed I was shaking all over.

“Cara mia,” she said. “Take me outside, will you?”

I gave Zia my papers to examine and stood behind her chair to take her outside. The sunshine made me blink, but the warmth felt good, and when I took a deep breath which managed to suppress the nausea.

“I still think Pagao is a curious name,” Zia said, returning the papers to me. “It sticks in one's memory.”

I slipped the ration books and identity card into the pocket of my dress. “It's a chance we have to take,” I murmured. If Yoru had to give up his real name for this entire affair, I'd thought, he should at least be able to keep something to remind him of who he was, and that was the name of his beloved home. It sounded Italian enough, and the German official hadn't commented on it at all. To him, many Italian names were strange, so he wasn't likely to pick out a really unusual one.

“He gave me two ration books,” I said as we crossed the square. It was getting hot, so we were headed for the arcade on the northern edge of the square where the shops were.

“Keep them,” Zia said.

“I'm not sure I want to take advantage of being pregnant.”

Zia gripped the wheels and stopped. Then she turned around and looked up at me. “You have to do everything to keep the baby safe and to look after yourself. Gio – ”

“Gio what?” I challenged her, my hackles rising.

“He would never forgive himself if anything were to happen to you,” she finished. “He told me.”

“And now you're babysitting me?” I asked, a bit mollified.

“Yes.”

Her honesty was so disarming I didn’t really feel I could challenge her further. I sighed. “When will he be back?” I asked softly. “You are in touch with him, yeah? When you told me you'd passed my letter on to him?”

“Soon. Now, let's not talk about this here,” she said, turning the chair around again. “It's getting hot.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, bending low. The square was lively, so there really wasn't any need, but I wanted to make sure she understood how much appreciated getting an answer. I'd expected her to brush me off because talking about him was dangerous in such a public place. Then I pushed her into the shade of the arcade and she took me to the clothes shop Giorgia had recommended.

“Choose whatever you like,” Zia said, once inside. “Not that there is much choice these days.”

When Maria, the shop owner, suggested I choose clothes that could be easily let out I shivered. The idea of having to stay here long enough to make this necessary upset me; I'd hoped that the Doctor would be able to retrieve the psychic paper within the week, but Zia made it sound as if we'd be staying here for quite a while. How much longer I had no idea, but I certainly did not want to give birth to our son here, in the middle of a war. Of course, as far as she was concerned, we'd stay here for an indefinite period. With that thought in mind, I painted on a smile and indulged Maria.

The choice might have been meagre, but since I loved 1940s fashion I felt spoiled as it was. I left the shop with two skirts, blouses to match, a warm cardigan and some underwear. Zia insisted I get a pair of shoes at a shop at the end of the arcade so I didn't have to wear the dressy pair I'd arrived in all the time.

“Benissimo,” Zia said, clutching the boxes to her on her lap as I wheeled her to the steps of the church where we were to wait for Piero.

The steps were very busy with people, mostly women and teenagers, carrying sandbags into the church. The façade was covered with dark and white marble, but it was in bad need of restoration. In some places the marble had come off, laying bare the pale pink brickwork beneath it. The campanile was just bare bricks, pointing into the clear blue sky, blindingly white and slender. I shielded my eyes as I looked up, supporting myself on the back of the wheelchair.

“There are some invaluable frescoes inside,” Zia said. “Hence the sandbags. People fear that they might be damaged, when... well. You should go and have a look soon, before they're all covered up.”

Just at that moment, Piero arrived. He smiled when he saw us, but there was that tension about him again that prevented the smile from reaching his eyes. The tarpaulin covering the back of the carriage was pulled tight over the edges, and it looked as though the goods he exchanged the boxes for took up much less room. Again, there was a small space left for the wheelchair and the boxes with my shopping.

The town was beautiful, but the ubiquitous reminders of the German occupation upset me and I wanted to get as far away from it as possible. I wasn't looking forward to the trip back to the villa. As Piero steered back the way we'd come, I noticed that apart from shops and cafés there was also a hotel called La Cisterna on the square. Its façade was overgrown with vine and the shutters of most windows were closed to keep out the heat. I couldn't help wondering what it might look like inside. I made a mental note to go and have a look when I went to the town by myself.

I shook my head.

If I ever were to come here again.

The queasiness returned as soon as we'd passed through the gate tower, and turned into nausea. Zia cast me concerned glances. I must look horrible, I thought, trying to smile bravely to reassure her. But then, about halfway to the villa, I had to ask Piero to stop. He helped me down from the coach seat, catching me as I nearly fell because my knees were buckling. I made it behind some bush beside the road before I emptied the contents of my stomach onto the dusty, brown grass. I felt better almost instantly.

How I hated this helplessness, the fact that everyone was trying to wrap me in cotton wool. Tears welled up in my eyes and I had to take a deep breath to keep them at bay. Zia mustn't see them. No one must see them. After another fortifying breath I teetered back to the carriage, mumbling my apologies.

-:-

I retreated to my room after a light lunch. I wanted to be alone for a while, and the siesta was a great excuse. The morning's events, while not really dramatic, had left me with the strong need to share my thoughts with the Doctor, but he wasn't here with me, and I was reminded of the loneliness I had felt in the first few weeks in Lufana. Again, there was no one I could confide in, not even Mum because inter-universal phone calls were not possible.

I stripped off the red dress I'd been wearing for days and crumbled onto the bed in my underwear. The Doctor’s smell on the sheets had faded, and since he'd only spent one night in this bed with me, its emptiness heightened my sense of being a stranger here, someone who didn't belong and whose presence was a bother. I should have stayed behind in Lufana.

The tears that had threatened to spill at the roadside became unstoppable and I cried, curling myself around the Doctor's pillow. Hopefully, the walls were thick enough for my sobbing to have gone unnoticed. From the corner of my eye I saw the boxes with the new clothes sitting on the table, but I couldn't bring myself to get up and open them. The emotional roller coaster I’d been on had been exhausting and I needed a nap badly. I ended up dozing off.

A crying baby woke me.

I started and sat up as soon as my drowsy brain had identified the noise. It was real and not something dragged up for a dream by my subconscious. The crying had, of course, stopped, now that I was awake. Why was a baby crying in the villa? Surely, Zia would have mentioned that when she'd told me about Piero and Luisa. Maybe it had been a dream after all.

I lay down and fell asleep quickly.

-:-

Day 4

Fenia colian, keri,

We saved three young men from England – which is the country Rose is from. The men had been taken prisoner but somehow managed to escape before being on the way to a camp. The resistance cell the Doctor and I work with picked them up, and hid them. We’ve taken them to safety, thanks to the psychic paper which allowed us to impersonate powerful people to move about safely. It was dangerous and exciting, and I loved moving through the thick, cool forests – imagine, keri, there are forests here, just like in the stories. It's so perfectly quiet inside a forest, and the air is fresh and sweet. When the sunlight filters in through the gaps in the foliage it paints the most beautiful patterns on the floor. Oh, the forest floor – you cannot call it ground. It's soft and thick with fallen leaves and pine needles; they crunch softly beneath your boots when you step on them. And, of course, the forests are thick and impenetrable, it's hard to find your way. Giorgia, however, knows her way around like you do in Lufana. She's fantastic. I trust her with my life already. She found us places to rest and sympathetic people who gave us food and drink on the way. Our journey this time was fast, she said, because the three men from England were strong and fit. It's difficult travelling with injured people or families – she's done it all before.

The Doctor has agreed to help the resistance on more missions. There is a family in hiding somewhere – you know, 'inferior' people – and after a couple of days' rest we'll go and take them to safety as well. But that's not all the resistance does. They also try to sabotage warfare, they spy on the others and pass the intelligence on to the Allies (the men from England are part of the Allies).

Rose is safe. She has made up a story about the three of us, in case the Germans (these are the people we're fighting) ask questions. She's sent us a letter with the story and we've had to learn it by heart and then burn it. In this world, my name is Roberto Pagao; Yoru wouldn't do here, it sounds like a name from an entirely different country, and, from what I've gathered, not an entirely friendly one. They have a form of government the rest of the Allies are not happy with but they can't do without them. Anyway, so Roberto Pagao is my name. Rose is my wife – it hits a little too close to home, but I'm sure that wasn't her intention. I'm still a little ashamed for thinking, hoping, she might feel the same for me as I did and – to some degree – still do have for her. She's not the cruel kind. Maybe it was Zia's idea. That makes the Doctor – Giovanni, but everyone calls him l'Inglese, the man from England – Rose's lover. It is very tangled, and I have no idea why Rose and the Doctor can't be married in their new roles. Maybe it was due to a mix-up when we started all this.

The Doctor was very disappointed when we got the letter, because there was not one personal word from Rose in it. He misses her terribly; it's okay during the day, or as long as we're busy, but I've seen him when he's guarding us at night. I've never seen him so sad and angry, not even when his TARDIS was burning up. He can be very still for a long time, and he's pushing himself to the limit. He's exhausted, but right now he needs Rose above everything else.

I wish I could help him – and I feel almost guilty for being glad that Giorgia's here. I really like her. She's brave and clever like Rose, but there's something else about her that clearly sets her apart and that makes her such a wonderful person. I shall miss her when she and the Doctor return to the villa later today. I'll stay here, in the hills, because Signor Pagao is still busy in the big city in the south, Rome, and won't be able to join his ‘wife’ just yet. I am in hiding, keri, but don't fear for me. I'm well-looked after here, and I have made friends among the other fighters. There are many things I'm learning. The local cuisine is simple but delicious, and I can't wait to cook for all of you when we get back to Lufana. You can tell the twins there will be presents, in case they're asking – and I'm sure they are.

There are so many things I'd like you to see, the good things about life here. I don't have the time to tell you now. The Doctor is leaving soon, and he'll give the letters to Rose for safe-keeping. Just in case. No one will touch her, she lives with a noblewoman; they call her Contessa, but to Giorgia she's simply Zia (Aunt).

I miss you all terribly.

M'aruu, keri, and stay safe.


	8. Seven

Seven

Some people can sense other people’s presence or, more often, when they’re being stared at. To most of them, it’s uncanny, particularly when they turn around and find they’re right; even though they’re wrong just as often. I can sense people staring at me and I’m always right; I can even feel their eyes on me in my sleep, especially when they’re large, brown and ancient. I had yet to learn to keep my guard up in my sleep. Sometimes, when he was relaxed and had let down his own guard, our dreams roused us.

So it was his overwhelming joy and relief that woke me from my nap that afternoon. I opened my eyes, and there he was, crouching beside the bed, his face level with mine. He looked hot and tired, and in bad need of a shave, but he was smiling.

“Imalun’ah, ngudia sam,” he whispered, touching my cheek.

“Hey,” was all I managed to say, grinning widely. His hand drifted away from my cheek and to my stomach. I rolled to lie on my back and he smoothed his palm over the tiny swell.

“Are you all right?” he asked, kissing my lips first and then my stomach.

My hands drifted to his hair. It was horribly filthy, but it felt delightfully soft between my fingers. “A bit bored.”

He scoffed. “That’s quite a story you came up with.”

“You being my lover wasn’t my idea, Doctor,” I said, sitting up. “You should take a bath and sleep.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ve been pushing my cycle.”

When he returned twenty minutes later, he was clad only in a towel slung around his narrow hips. He hadn’t shaved, and I reached up to touch the stubble, scraping my fingers through it. I noticed from the hollows in his cheeks that he’d lost more weight than I’d though at first. I hoped he’d stay long enough for Luisa to fatten him up a bit. I’d have loved to cook for him, but Zia was having none of it. When Luisa had a day off, Zia claimed the kitchens for herself.

“I don’t trust myself with a blade,” he said apologetically, turning his head to kiss my palm.

“Where’s Yoru?”

“Still with... Only Giorgia and I are here,” he said. And then, in disappointment, “Why did you get dressed?”

“You’re exhausted, Doctor. Now try to get some sleep,” I said. I reached for his towel and removed it. The Doctor drew me towards him for a kiss, and I sank into his arms, but when it was over I withdrew and pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He nodded, grinning sheepishly. He was so tired he hadn’t even got hard as he kissed me. He stretched out on the bed, and before long he fell asleep as I caressed him soothingly. I dropped a kiss on his cheek and left.

I met Luisa in the hall. She had gathered the Doctor’s clothes from where he’d left them in a heap in the bathroom. “I’ll have some food ready in a short while, Signora,” she said.

“That’s very kind of you, Luisa, but he just fell asleep and I don’t want to wake him,” I said.

Luisa nodded. “Let me know when he wants something. Any time. He looks like... well, he needs to eat.” Remembering her place, she bit her lip.

“He tends to forget about eating when he’s stressed,” I sighed, choosing to ignore the fact that she was a servant. “Thank you.”

I was just about to continue on my way to the library when I remembered. “I heard a baby cry earlier.”

Luisa stopped and turned around. “There aren’t any children here, Signora.”

“Well, I must have dreamed it then.”

She nodded and went her way.

I spent the rest of the afternoon familiarizing myself with the library and the card index that turned out to be hopelessly outdated. Getting it back into order at least gave me something to do, but before I could start I had to decide how I wanted to do it. I couldn’t use the Observatory’s system, the one Tayar had taught me, but I reckoned that the basic principles were the same. I could, of course, always go back to town and learn about the system they used in the public library. Using the TARDIS library as a model was out of the question – not even the Doctor knew all of its details, and the ship had a way of finding the books we were looking for and laying them out on a table for us.

I was so engrossed in my work that I jumped when the door opened and Giorgia walked in. She was barefoot and her hair was damp from a shower. The glasses she was carrying on a tray were tinkling softly. “I thought you might be thirsty,” she said, putting the tray down on the table. I had to move a couple of papers and books out of the way.

“Thank you,” I said. “It is a bit dusty in here.” I had opened the windows to get in some air, but better than that were the sounds wafting in on the soft breeze, a combination of birds and crickets.

“I wouldn’t have put you down as a librarian,” Giorgia said as she filled the two glasses.

I laughed. “I’m... not really a librarian. It’s just what I did for a while, helping out. I’m a quick study, though.”

The water was fresh and cool, and I hadn’t realised how thirsty I’d been until Giorgia turned up. “Are you feeling better?” she asked. “Zia told me about this morning.”

I flushed, staring into my empty glass. “Yes, I am.”

“Gio was a little worried about you,” she said, chuckling. “He’s always worried about you.”

“Well, he shouldn’t be,” I said sharply, my temper flaring. It was the heat and the loneliness, and – good Lord – I was jealous of her. She called him Gio, she already had a nickname for him. “I’m here, stuck in this library, where it’s safe. I’m the one who should be worried.” I drew a deep breath, continuing a little more calmly, “He can be a little reckless sometimes.” I sat heavily, setting the glass down loudly. How I hated this.

“That’s what I told him.”

My head snapped up. “What do you know about him?” I hissed.

“We... we went through some pretty intense things in the past few days. Our lives depend on trusting one another. Don’t you think it’s necessary that we get to know each other?” she said, starting out timidly but growing more confident.

She was right, of course, and with a painful pang I realised that I was turning into a hormonal, green-eyed monster. I just couldn’t help myself. Dropping both my hands into my lap, I wrung my hands, trying to recover a modicum of composure.

“I came here to get to know you, Rosa,” Giorgia said. “Clearly, I interrupted you so I guess I’d better leave you to it. I’ll see you at dinner.” She left the carafe of water, but took the tray and her glass with her. I leaned back against the high leather back of the chair and exhaled slowly. Now that the Doctor was back the tension had melted away, leaving me stripped bare, down to the core of my fear and loneliness.

And I hadn’t even asked how Yoru was.

When I went upstairs shortly before dinner to wash and check on the Doctor, he was still sleeping. He lay sprawled on his stomach, his back slowly rising and falling. He didn’t even stir as I moved around; he must be very exhausted and I wondered what they had been up to. I could imagine that he hadn’t slept at all, he had probably been keeping guard at night so that the rest of them could sleep. They must have been outside a lot. His skin had taken on a nice tan, but it looked like he’d been wearing a hat because his hair hadn’t become lighter. I let my eyes wander along the line of his body and I felt dampness building between my legs. I closed my eyes. This wasn’t the time to get aroused, no matter how inviting he looked, no matter how much I wanted to run my fingers and lips over the curves, angles and plains of his body. An idea formed at the back of my head, and I made a mental note to ask Luisa for some olive oil after dinner.

I reached out to run my fingers through his hair, but again he didn’t react. The Doctor was so fast asleep that he wasn’t going to wake any time soon. I hoped he’d gotten the psychic paper back and that we would be able to leave soon.

-:-

Dinner was a subdued affair. When it had been just Zia and me we had talked about all kinds of things, but now that Giorgia was back I felt unwelcome. It was obvious that they wanted to talk privately about where Giorgia and the Doctor had been and what they had been doing. The feeling increased, and before we were even finished I made my excuses, mumbling something about not feeling too well. It was all I could do to keep my tears in check as I brushed past Luisa and outside to the secluded part of the garden where I had dreamed up the cover story. For that, I thought bitterly, I had been good enough.

When I sat down on the stone bench, still warm from a day of sunshine, I found I wasn’t able to cry. I didn’t recognise myself any more, and I wondered if the hormones were to blame for it, or if this adventure was showing me limits I’d never thought about before.

I dropped my hands to my stomach and caressed it lightly. Blaming it on hormones meant blaming it on the baby, and I didn’t want that. I loved the baby already, loved it with a fierceness that left me light-headed. I turned my thoughts inward, to the place the Doctor had shown me, where I could share my thoughts. So far, neither of us had an idea if our baby would have telepathic abilities. All we knew was that he had only one heart. I wanted him to feel loved from the very beginning, and I felt very guilty for my earlier outbreak.

I took a deep breath. Everyone wanted me to be safe – I wanted to be safe. But what angered me was the fact that no one bothered to ask me about it. They assumed they knew what was best for me, they thought they knew how strong I was and what I was still capable of doing. As far as I knew none of the women in the villa had ever had a baby, to say nothing about Piero.

My thoughts turned to the crying baby I’d heard that afternoon. I had read that some dreams could get really weird during pregnancy; they could get very upsetting when they were about the baby. But I was still sure that I hadn’t dreamed about it. It had seemed so real. Sometimes my dreams were so real that it took me a while to sort through them and to tell the difference between them and reality. But I was fairly sure that this had not been a dream, despite Luisa’s assurances.

Gravel and pine needles crunched softly as footsteps approached. I felt my shoulders sag a little. I wasn’t sure I was ready for another confrontation. All I wanted was the Doctor. At least he knew when to leave me be; he had learned when I needed him to be quiet and just hold me.

“Rosa?”

It was Giorgia’s voice.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

I turned to look at her. Again, she’d come bearing water, but this time she also had a peach for me. I took it, running my thumb over its soft, deep red skin. “No.”

“Are you feeling better? We were worried about you.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I am. But you don’t have to. Worry about me.”

“You see,” she said, sitting on the far end of the bench, “that’s where I think you’re not telling the truth.”

I bristled, putting the peach down between us. Of course I was lying. I could hardly go and pour out my heart to her, could I? I couldn’t even tell the Doctor, not in good conscience. The only person I could tell lived in another universe. I had taken the chance and opened up to a complete strangers twice – the Doctor and Fenia. I didn’t want to press my luck and open up to Giorgia. It didn’t feel right.

“I am not after Gio, if it’s that what you’re thinking,” Giorgia said.

I shook my head, but I couldn’t help a chill running down my spine. I trusted the Doctor, but I didn’t trust her. The Doctor was the most beautiful man I’d ever met – and I’m not someone to use the word beautiful a lot to describe men – and I wasn’t foolish enough to assume I was the only one who saw, and wanted, him.

Again, I said nothing.

Giorgia exhaled. “I... I’m sorry we’ve been away for so long. It must be... terrifying. I promise you, Rosa, we’re doing everything to keep each other safe. You can trust me on that, if not on anything else.”

I looked at her, and then I nodded. I thought I could do that.

-:-

Before going upstairs I went to the kitchens to find some food for the Doctor and ask Luisa for some olive oil. I was surprised to see her busy preparing another meal on the massive range. Something was bubbling away in a huge saucepan, and Luisa jumped a little when I entered the kitchen. Piero looked up from his own dinner; he was sat at the kitchen table, the end she had left clear for him. The rest of the table was covered with fruit and vegetables, and white ceramic jars of varying sizes, labelled farina, sale, zucchero. A bowl covered with a fresh tea towel stood next to a wooden board dusted with flour. It was incredibly hot, but the smell was mouth-watering.

“Oh,” I said, just as surprised as they were.

“What can I do for you, Rosa?” If Zia had told her about my hasty retreat, she didn’t let on.

“I... I wanted to pick up some food for the Doctor. He’ll probably be very hungry when he wakes and I don’t want to... wake you, or just take something,” I said. This, I noticed, was an awful lot of food, even for the six of us. Maybe she was preparing something for the partisans, or it was just time to make jams and preserves. There was a huge pile of tomatoes, probably to be cooked and used as a basis for all things... tomato.

Luisa smiled. “I’ll put together some cold food for him. Is there anything else you need?”

I blushed. “Actually, I’d like some olive oil. If you can spare it.”

As Piero turned back to his pasta, his delicious pasta, Luisa nodded. “For your skin?”

I looked at the bunches of herbs she’d hung in front of the windows to dry. It wasn’t really for my skin alone. “Yes. If that’s okay.” I hated to ask for it, particularly since I didn’t know if there was enough of it, considering the times. Good olive oil, I’d learned, could cost a fortune in the 21st century.

The Doctor was still asleep when I entered our room a little while later with a heavily laden tray. I was very careful not to spill any of the oil Luisa had given me in a little bowl. I put it down on the table in the corner of the room, then I went to sit on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t moved at all. I couldn’t resist trailing my fingers along his back and over his bum and then down his leg. I was sure he was tense and I longed to give him a massage, but that had to wait until he was awake. He needed his sleep and I didn’t want to interrupt it.

I went to the bathroom to shower and wash my hair, and I even rubbed some of the oil into the skin on my stomach and my breasts. The swell, I found, wasn’t as tiny any more as I’d thought; even the German had noticed it. I wondered what I’d look like in a few months, but I couldn’t bring myself to stuff a cushion beneath my blouse. I’d never liked it when they did it on the telly, because it always looked bad and just not right.

Once I was finished I slipped back into our room, and, clad in one of his shirts, I sat on the loggia with a book and a paraffin lamp. The view was gorgeous, and I watched the sky and the outline of the hills grow darker in the haze of the day as the sun set behind the left wing. I gasped when I realised that the black birds flitting about weren’t actually birds but pipistrelli – bats. The crickets sounded even louder than during the day, and for a moment the world was so peaceful that a war going on in these hills seemed preposterous.

I lit the lamp and began to read. It was one of the books from the library, an early Italian edition of Sense and Sensibility. I hadn’t read the book since school – and even then I hadn’t really read it; I’d skimmed it at best, and I never knew how it ended. I’d chosen it because it reminded me most of home. At one point I dropped the towel I’d wrapped around my head and combed my hair, surprised at how fast it dried in the night air. The pace and rhythm of the words on the page were pleasant, and I before I knew it I was totally engrossed in the story, and loving it.

“Rose?”

I jumped, crying out softly. I should have sensed the Doctor being awake. Turning in my seat, only noticing now that my bum was falling asleep on the hard chair, I saw the Doctor standing in the door. His hair was sticking up and the folds of the pillow had left their mark on his cheek.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Half past midnight,” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

I closed the book and sat up.

“Come to bed?” he asked.

I ran my fingers through my hair. It was getting a bit chilly. I stood, taking my book and the lamp, and the Doctor closed the shutter after I’d stepped into the warmth of the room. I put the lamp on my bedside table, then I took off his shirt and draped it carefully over the back of a chair. He still needed sleep.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, gesturing at the food behind me on the table.

He shook his head. “I only want you.” He closed the distance between us. “Let me look at you.”

I was standing with the light in my back. I moved so he could look at me. His close scrutiny made me a little self-conscious and I began to fidget a little. Sitting on my side of the bed, he reached out for me and pulled me close, smoothing his free hand over my stomach. “What we do is very exhausting, Rose. You could do it easily, normally, but... there’s little to eat and we walk all day and sleep on the ground.”

I flushed. I knew that, of course. But tell that to my heart. He drew me closer and rested his head against my stomach. I stroked his hair. “I know, Doctor.” Still, it hurt.

I straddled him, needing to feel him as close as possible. I’d missed his kisses, his hands on me. “We’ve never been apart for so long before. Not since Lufana,” I said.

“I know.” He kissed me. “And I’ve missed you. So much.” His cock stirred between my legs.

I smiled and kissed him deeply. He didn’t return the gesture with his usual enthusiasm, though; he was still very tired. “Let’s go to sleep, Doctor.”

He looked crestfallen. “I... I’d hoped...”

I cupped his cheek. “I don’t want you to fall asleep on me. What about... you know... just... If I gave you a–”

He covered my mouth with his hand. “No. I want to be inside you. Please?” He yawned, and the beginnings of his erection died.

I chuckled. “You are going to fall asleep on me, Doctor.” I kissed him tenderly and moved to kneel beside him. “Let’s sleep for a while, yeah?”

There was a hint of relief in his expression as he nodded. He moulded his body to mine as we stretched out on the bed and I drew the thin sheet over us. The regular warm puffs of his breath against my neck were soothing, as was his double heartbeat against my back. I took his arm and pulled it up to rest above my breasts, clutching it to me. “Sweet dreams, Doctor,” I said, but I never got an answer. He’d gone back to sleep already.


	9. Eight

Eight

Eventually his regular breathing lulled me to sleep. It was good to have him back with me, and I wanted to treasure every minute of it, but as much as I wanted to watch over him I couldn’t do it. I woke when the grey early morning light seeped through the slats of the shutters, roused from my dreams by a crying baby. Shock rushed through me and I was wide awake at once, unable to shake the feeling that I should be looking after the baby but somehow had forgotten about it. I sat up, trying to find out if it was real or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

It was real. The crying picked up again as I strained my ears, and soon the sound was joined by a woman singing softly to calm the baby. The morning was perfectly silent – even the animals were quiet at this hour – so the two voices carried up to the loggia and through the shutters.

My movement had woken the Doctor, so when I shifted to get up and see where the sounds were coming from he sat up behind me and took my arm. I remained seated but turned around to look at him. His face was hidden in the dim light and shadows of the room and I couldn’t make out his expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“There’s a baby crying,” I said.

“I can’t hear anything,” he replied.

“But,” I began.

“Are you all right, Rose?” he asked.

I sighed. “Yes, I am all right,” I said testily. “Listen!” Both voices were quickly fading, however, and when a rooster started crowing they were drowned out. I closed my eyes in frustration. Why were they doing this to me? Didn’t they realise that I could keep a secret? I didn’t care about not being told just to keep me safe in case I was picked up and interrogated. I knew too much already.

“Rose.”

I shook my head. “I need to pee.” I got up, shrugged into my robe and left the room. The house was silent once more as I padded to the bathroom. I wondered where the woman and the baby were hiding. After I’d finished, I lingered a while to pull myself together. Falling apart on the Doctor was not an option. He was worried enough as it was, and feeling guilty on top of it. I just couldn’t heap my concerns on him. I had to be strong, for all our sakes. I scrubbed my face, the cold water driving away the last vestiges of sleep, and made my way back to our room.

When I returned he was standing at the table and picking at the food I’d brought the previous night. “I can’t tell you,” he said, turning around.

“I know,” I said gently. “Just don’t treat me like I’m a stupid little ape.” I took off my robe and sat on my side of the bed, ready to go back to sleep for a while.

“What?” He looked bewildered, but there was also the flash of a dimple in his cheek.

I wished I’d kept on my robe. I felt very vulnerable, having to face this argument with him standing there in the nude. “It’s how I feel. Why don’t you just... I don’t know, say ‘Yes, there is a baby crying, but don’t worry about it.’ I do have an idea of what’s going on, you know. Just don’t... treat me like I’ve suddenly become a delicate piece of china with no mind of my own.” I tried to tell him as calmly as possible. He needed to know how I felt, at least about this bit of my stay here.

He looked at me for a while. The light in the room was brighter now, and the birds had started to sing, accompanied by the hoarse rooster. Eventually he nodded. “I’m sorry, I...” He ran his hands through his hair. “All I want is to know you’re safe.”

“I am safe, ngudia sam,” I said.

He nodded. Then he picked up the bowl of olive oil and came towards me. “You look tense.”

“I wanted to give you a massage,” I said softly when I realised what he was up to.

He put the bowl down on my bedside table and climbed onto the bed to kneel behind me. “Please,” was all he said.

I reached for the elastic on my bedside table and tied my hair into an unruly knot to keep it off my shoulders. When I dropped my hand to the spot where shoulder meets neck I noticed how tense I was, and that the Doctor would probably find quite a few knots that needed working out. Suddenly, the idea of being on the receiving end of a massage didn’t seem so bad, even though I’d wanted to spoil him a little.

“Feel that?” he said, carefully guiding my hand along my shoulder. The muscles there were hard as I dug my fingers into my flesh, and I winced a little. I nodded.

“Lie down and relax, my love,” he whispered, smoothing his hand against my back, between my shoulder blades. His touch was light and I lay down, pushing aside my pillow before stretching my arms out along my body. I was uncomfortable for a moment as I squashed my breasts beneath myself. I hardly ever lie on my stomach; I prefer lying on my side when I sleep. “Are you comfortable?” he asked, running his fingers down my back.

I shivered and relaxed. “Yes,” I mumbled, my eyes fluttering shut.

I heard rather than saw his grin. I pictured him dipping his fingers into the oil and spreading it over his palms, listening to the sound of skin gliding over skin. I jerked a little when a thin thread of oil dripped on my back, running down my spine. The feeling made me stretch a little, and I believe I even purred.

Then came his hands. They were pleasant in their malialion-ness as he splayed his fingers over my shoulder-blades. The mattress dipped on either side of my hips as he straddled my thighs to have a better angle massaging me. My thumbs rested against his legs. He didn’t settle his weight on me, so when he leaned forward to reach for my shoulders again I felt the tip of his penis brush over my bum. I shivered.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” he said as he began to spread the oil on my skin. His grip was firm as he kneaded my muscles, finding and digging his fingers into the knots. I moaned with pleasure as he worked his way down my back, the oil helping his hands slide over my skin. I’d expected him to speak more, but he remained silent as he stroked and caressed me. He also ran his fingers along my arms, digging his thumbs into my palms and I expected him to take my wrists and pin my hands above my head. But all he did was lean forward and kiss the base of my neck. “Turn over, Rose,” he whispered near my ear.

He shifted a little to give me room. I was surprised and disappointed to see that he wasn’t hard. I spread my legs a little and the tip of his penis nestled between my curls. He smiled, leaned forward and kissed me before reaching for the bowl again to dribble some of the oil down my front. The touch of his groin against mine sent jolts of pleasure through me and I sighed. I reached for his knees.

“Not yet, Rose,” he said softly, rubbing his hands, but doing nothing to make me let go of him. His hands were warm when he cupped my shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

He continued his massage, using both hands first on one, then on the other side, touching my breasts just in the way a massage warranted. I sighed in both frustration and pleasure. It had been such a long time since we’d made love, and all the times I’d imagined my hands to be his had only made me miss him more. “Please,” I whispered.

He leaned forward, brushing against my centre. His kiss was soft, but he gave my bottom lip a brief nip. “Soon, my love, soon.” He took his time, but gradually his touch became softer and was more like a caress than a massage. I pushed my stomach into his hands as he worked the oil into the skin there.

“So good,” I purred.

Again, I heard rather than saw him smile.

“How are you, Rose? How’s the baby?” he asked softly as he caressed the swell of my stomach.

“Good, we’re... good,” I said, covering his hands with mine. My bump disappeared beneath them. I opened my eyes and looked at him. The gentleness and love in his expression were heartbreaking. He hated being away from me. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to say the word. “I’ve missed you so.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and I knew then he’d be going away again. “It’s all right,” I said, brushing my thumb over the backs of his fingers. “I don’t want to keep you from what you need to do. Just... be safe, yeah?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I... sometimes I don’t know how I deserve you.” When I didn’t say anything he opened his eyes again and smiled. He withdrew his hands from beneath mine, took my left hand, slipped off the ring and began to massage my hand. Again, pleasure made my body tingle, but this time I kept my eyes open to watch him. He ran his fingers along mine and brushed the fleshy parts of my palm with a devotion that sent shivers down my spine. When he was finished, he dropped a kiss into my palm and picked up my right hand.

“This is wonderful,” I murmured.

He looked up briefly to smile at me. “I’m glad.”

This time, he didn’t let go of my hand when he was finished. He leaned forward for another kiss, deepening it as soon as I opened up beneath him. We kissed for a while before he shifted to kneel between my legs, hooking them over his thighs and exposing him to me. He caught the scent of my arousal that had been trapped there for a while. To my delight I saw that he was hardening, and I tucked my tongue between my teeth.

“Tam shia ngarthu,” he said.

“Doctor, please,” I said, squirming a little. “Rovalionn ti.”

He began with feathery touches to the insides of my thighs, walking his fingertips over the skin there, so softly they were barely a whisper, lighter than a breeze. I arched my back and sighed. “That good?”

“Yeah.”

His hands began to wander over my body, his touch still ever so soft on my skin. I smiled as I heard him humming to himself as he enjoyed our closeness. It was electrifying, and part of me wished we could stay that way forever, in the half light between night and day, just about to make love. On his journey, he found places on my skin I hadn’t known were so very sensitive as to make me whimper and sigh and suck in the air. And he never even touched me properly. He didn’t speak either, all I heard was his occasional hum and his breathing. How this could be so soothing and arousing at the same time I had no idea.

The tension that had been pooling low in my stomach became too much, and I came undone without warning and more powerfully than beneath my own touch. I cried out, arching off the bed as his ministrations became too exquisite too fast.

“Rose?” The Doctor’s voice sounded concerned. I turned my head and found him lying next to me, his arm draped protectively over my midriff.

“Hey,” I croaked.

“What was that?” he asked.

“You tell me,” I managed to say, smiling. “You didn’t even touch me. Properly, I mean.”

His puzzled expression changed into awe and then, quite quickly, into male pride. “I did that?”

“Well, of course you did,” I grinned.

“You’ve never...” he began.

I pushed myself up onto my elbow and turned to kiss him; my free hand wandered between us so I could touch him and return the favour. “Thank you,” I said. He moaned into my mouth as I gave him an upwards stroke, running my thumb over the slippery tip of his cock. Taking advantage of his helplessness I rolled us over and straddled his thighs, still stroking him.

“Rose...”

“I’m here.”

“Can we... you know... Ildiem tu faronn. Savira’ra,” he groaned, slipping into Gallifreyan as his senses began to desert him.

“No games?”

His eyes fluttered open. They were almost black with desire, reinforcing what he said next. “Rovalionn ti.”

I shifted and guided his cock to my opening, running the tip over my clit and folds a couple of times before closing my eyes as I lowered myself slowly onto him. The feeling of him filling me was like homecoming, like finally being complete again. I wanted to make this last, even more than in that state in between when he had made me come with his light touches. He groaned loudly when we were fully joined and I held still for a moment to get used to us being together again. But I flexed my muscles around him, eliciting a few more exquisite sounds from him. He reached out to hold me by the waist, and I could see how much effort the simple act of opening his eyes cost him. “Oh Rose,” he whispered.

I leaned forward, my breasts brushing his chest, to kiss him. It was a languid kiss, deep and interrupted only for a few gentle bites and kisses to his face. I relaxed into him, covering his body with mine. His heartsbeat was rapid against my chest, and he reminded me of a dazed sparrow I’d once held in my cupped hands. It had flown into a shop window in an attempt to get to the potted plant behind it.

“Shh, Doctor,” I said softly, bringing my hand to his face to cup his scruffy cheek. “I’m here.”

“Oh yes,” he sighed. “You are. I’m so... so happy, Rose.”

I smiled, running my fingertips over his full bottom lip. “So am I.”

His hands left my hips then and came up around my back and shoulders and he held me close to him. I teased him a little by squeezing his cock, to remind him of what he wanted as much as to distract him from getting emotional. A wonderful throbbing was his response, and with one last kiss I sat up and began to set a rhythm.

I threaded my fingers through his as he raised his hands to offer me purchase, using his palms to support my rocking, my rise and fall as I rode him. My head fell backward and my eyes closed when I found a particularly enjoyable angle. The tension was building again, and fast, now that I’d already come, and I bit my lip in concentration. As was the case so often, this did little to help as I was invariably trying too hard.

“Relax,” the Doctor said. “Relax, Rose. Here, let me help you.” He extracted his fingers from between mine and slipped his thumb through my damp curls to find my clit and play with it. I rewarded him with a strangled cry, and it took only a few more strokes for me to come undone again.

“Don’t... don’t stop, please,” he said, sitting up to hold me with one arm around me. Propped on the other arm, he had enough leverage to thrust into me to drive himself to completion. I did my best to meet his thrusts, clenching around him, trying to give him the release he needed so badly. I bent my head to kiss him, I wanted to kiss him when he came.

“Foyemsi'ra sam,” I encouraged him in between kisses. “Yamu’sati. Foyemsi’ra sam.”

He groaned and held me tight as I felt him pulse inside me, spilling himself into me. I showered his face and hair with kisses, caressed him and whispered to him. When he sank back into the pillows, I broke my fall with my hands landing on the bed on either side of him and lay on his chest as his hands came around me to hold me close.

His heartsbeat was like the poor little bird’s, faster than I’d ever felt it before. This wasn’t just an orgasm; this was so much more, and I knew that part of him was terrified of losing what we had, of never being able to do this again. I continued to caress his face and whisper to him. For all my angst earlier, he was the one who was in desperate need of a cuddle.

-:-

Later, after we had dozed for a while and the sun had risen, I rose to find something with which to clean ourselves up. There was a flannel by the bowl behind the screen, and after I’d taken care of myself I returned to the bed to do the same for the Doctor. He took the flannel from me, though.

“When do you have to go?” I asked, watching him as he ran the flannel over himself.

He looked up, opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.

“You can’t leave while you’re able to help these people,” I said. “I can understand that. I... I’d do anything to help. But you... they won’t let me.”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said.

“I think I know too much already. So if they picked me up–”

“It’s not about you!” he cried. When he saw I shrank away at his outburst he took a deep breath and continues more calmly, “It’s not about you being picked up, Rose. It’s... it’s about Yoru and me. If they pick you up it will be to blackmail us and... I’m not sure... I’m terrified, Rose.”

“Then let’s leave.”

“I can’t.”

I sighed. “When do you have to go?”

“Tomorrow.”

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the sound that was bubbling up inside me.

“I can’t come back here, Rose. Not while... there’s still something for us to do. We... there are a couple of things, and one big... mission. We’ll go afterwards, but until then...” he trailed off, his voice imploring although he knew I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, refuse him.

“How long until that big mission?” I asked, reaching for my robe and slipping into it. “How long?” I wanted to be prepared for this. I needed to know, for the baby’s sake too. My hand went to my stomach.

He covered it with his hand. “A couple of weeks. Maybe three.” He looked up at me, the soiled flannel balled up in his fist. “I could always take you back to Lufana. If you want.”

“Don’t you dare!” I hissed. Being there, knowing he was in danger here, would drive me up the wall with worry, particularly if his timing proved to be off, and I knew it would, and he ended up being late for the birth of our child.

“It was worth a try,” he said.

“Why do you have to have such a big heart?” I asked, kneeling in front of him on the floor.

“Well.”

“It’s why I love you. But promise me you’ll be careful.”

He nodded. Then he took my wrist and licked it, kissing the invisible tattoo. I shivered. “The baby’s all right,” he said.

“You’ll miss so much,” I said, dropping my hand into my lap as he let go of me. “Of the baby growing. Of me getting fat and waddling.”

“We’ll be home long before that,” he protested feebly.

“Yeah.”

We were silent for a while.

“I might... we might be able to see each other. Steal an afternoon or a night here and there,” he suggested.

“And start the illicit affair I dreamed up for us,” I smiled, but sobered quickly. “Is coming here that dangerous?”

“For you, yes. Yoru will be able to visit, though.”

I nodded.

“Then we’d better make the most of the time we have, don’t you think?” I suggested. “Let’s go and have breakfast. Zia and Giorgia will be waiting for us.”

-:-

Day 8

Fenia colian, keri,

Giorgia and the Doctor are finally back. I’m very happy that they’re with us, even though that means that Rose has to be alone again, and will have to be for a long time now. We’re making preparations for another evacuation; it’s several people this time, among them a new mother and her baby. We’re still waiting for two men from England to arrive with another transport. They have been delayed on their way to our camp, but we hope that they’ll arrive soon so we can leave. There is a narrow window of time during which the evacuation will be less dangerous. Giorgia is posing as a nun – that is a woman living in the service of their God (imagine that, they only worship one deity, well, in this part of the world anyway) – who is also a nurse, and as such is in charge of several sick and injured people. That way, we will get them through the checkpoints and into safety. No one dares lay a hand on nun nurses and their patients. I’m the driver. I’m driving motorcars here, keri, imagine that! It took me a while to get the hang of them. They are so much more advanced than the motorcars back home.

The Doctor tells me that Rose and the baby are fine, apart from missing him terribly. When he went to see the accalein it was to tell her that they won’t be seeing each other for a long time, and having to do that broke his hearts. He’s not himself these days. He’s so torn, keri, between helping these people and his love for Rose. It’s not that he loves what he’s doing more than Rose; he just can’t help himself. I know what he does, keri, and it’s absolutely wonderful. He’s the most selfless man I’ve ever met. He doesn’t even ask for a thank you, and most of the time he just withdraws and wants to be by himself when there is a celebration going on. I can understand that. It’s when he feels his decision weigh him down most, when the rest of us need to celebrate being alive and having cheated the enemy again. He misses Rose so terribly, but Zia won’t listen to him when he asks her to allow Rose to join us.

I miss her, keri, just like I miss you and Tayar and the children. I have no idea how long we’ll be here for. If I know the Doctor, it’ll be longer than the fortnight or three weeks he talks about. Give my love to everyone, keri, and stay safe. Thank you.


	10. Nine

Nine

The Doctor sneaked out of our bedroom at the crack of dawn. I was awake before he brushed a kiss over my forehead and gently touched my stomach, but I pretended to be asleep for both our sakes. He probably knew that I was awake, but he didn’t let on. Saying good-bye was easier that way. “Tri tu miras’tu, iyo,” he whispered softly. Then he picked up his boots and left.

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, trying hard to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t stop worrying about him. Eventually, I slipped out of bed, put on my robe and stepped out onto the loggia. The air was comparatively cool that early in the morning. The birds, including the rooster, were greeting the day, but I could hear the gravel crunch as someone hurried down the path towards the back of the garden. I looked down just in time to see that it was the Doctor before he disappeared behind bushes and a wall.

What was he doing? I thought he’d be picked up first thing this morning. He returned a couple of minutes later, and I couldn’t stop myself waving at him when he looked up at where I was standing. He waved back, then hurried away. I resisted the urge to run down to the kitchens to say good-bye to him. Without doubt Luisa wouldn’t let him go without breakfast, scarce though it was. So instead I went back to bed; I was very tired. We had spent half the night making love, the other half dozing and making plans. It already seemed a life time away. I fell asleep quickly, and woke late in the morning.

After my usual morning routine I hurried down to the library to pick up where I had left off two days before. I skipped breakfast because I didn’t feel hungry and because I wanted to avoid Zia and Luisa. Their sympathy was appreciated, but wanted to carry on as if nothing had happened. Once I had made myself familiar with the Guidotti library system I carried all the books that had piled beside the bookcases to the desk at the centre of the room and started to fill in the card index. It took me a while to get used to writing with a genuine fountain pen. I’d only ever seen them used in old films on the telly. Of course, they had been available in shops, but I’d never needed one, and the really nice, quality ones were presented in glass cases like jewellery – and they nearly cost as much. Using a fountain pen forced me to write slowly, and after a while I noticed that my handwriting looked really nice on the creamy stock. The soft scratch of the golden nib on the paper was comforting, and I loved having to refill it every once in a while. I was pleased to see that my fingers weren’t ink-stained at all when I screwed the cap closed.

When Luisa entered the room at noon, I jumped. “Signora Pagao?”

“Please, call me Rosa,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Signora,” Luisa replied, sticking to protocol. “I did knock.”

“ I didn’t hear you, I was very engrossed in my work.”

“It’s time for lunch.”

I went to wash my hands, then joined Zia on the covered patio for lunch. We discussed the library for a while, and I told her of my plans to visit the public library in town to see if maybe their system could be adapted to hers. “You should go to town anyway, Rosa,” Zia said. “You need to get out a little. Life, I hear, is still enjoyable, despite the Germans.”

Her intentions were good, as was the pretext. She was right; I needed to get out. But I also felt that she wanted me out of the way for when the Doctor’s resistance cell arrived to pick up the refugees. I hadn’t realised earlier what was going, but when she suggested I go out it all fell into place. They were hiding refugees on the estate; a woman and her baby, if not more people.

“Yeah,” I said, finishing my bread and tomato salad. It was funny. Here I got it on a daily basis, but it was considered a delicacy at home, and restaurants charged a fortune for it. “I think I’ll take the bike later on, after kit... after the siesta.”

“Could you do me a favour?”Zia asked.

“Of course,” I said.

“Do you think you could pick something up for me at the bookshop?” she asked. She gave me a searching look that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. Was she about to find out if she could trust me after all? I returned the gaze. She had no qualms trusting Yoru – the Doctor could make anyone trust him – so why not me, when she knew that the Doctor and I were a married couple? Surely she could think he’d marry someone who was trustworthy as he. Then again, it only was a book.

“Yeah,” I said lightly.

“Thank you. That’ll save me – or rather Piero – some trouble,” she said.

I decided not to spend the siesta in the half-light of my bedroom; the bed reminded me of the Doctor’s absence so much I found it difficult to breathe. Although I’d slept alone there most of the time, the memories we’d built there were powerful and I’d only have them and his pillow to cling to from now on. He’d made it unequivocally clear that he wasn’t going to come back. I grabbed my copy of Sense and Sensibility and went down to the garden where there were a couple of deckchairs in the natural shade of holly oaks and pine trees. When I arrived there I found that a hammock had been put up as well, equipped with some cushions and, quite unnecessarily, a blanket. There was also an occasional table.

“Zia thought you might like the hammock,” Luisa said as she arrived with some water.

“That’s... very thoughtful of her. Thank you,” I said.

I settled down in the hammock, dangling one leg onto the ground to keep the hammock moving. The gentle to and fro was very soothing, and soon my eyelids grew heavy and I replaced the bookmark between the pages. Although I’d slept late after the Doctor had left I was very drowsy. The amount of sleep I needed amazed me, but I was glad it was that rather than morning sickness.

I jerked awake when I heard the baby cry. It started softly at first, but when his mother failed to arrive the cries became more insistent. Unsure of what to do at first, I eventually struggled my way out of the hammock, and followed the wailing along the gravel path the Doctor had taken that morning. It was very strange that no one came to see what was wrong.

The path ended at a narrow door in the back garden wall. Surprisingly, the bolt gave when I pulled at it, and the door swung open silently, on what I assumed, recently oiled hinges. The door looked old and disused. There was no path on the other side of the door, only a narrow, barely visible track through the bushes. The wailing still hadn’t stopped, and I hurried down the path along the wall, brushing back the overhanging branches. I began to sweat, the drops trickling down my back and between my breasts. Eventually, I reached an old lean-to hut. The baby was inside, and I expected the door to be locked, but found it open, just like the garden door.

I slipped into the dim, cool interior and found the baby in his cot by the window. When I lifted the child up, the thin blanket fell away and revealed a snake. Yelping, I jumped away from the cot, holding the baby close to me. No wonder he had been crying so heartbreakingly. I tried to calm my breathing to calm him, moving around the small room, rocking gently. When I started patting his bum, I found it damp.

The hut wasn’t much. There was an old iron bed, a small, rickety table, and a chair. At the foot of the bed sat a smallish, open suitcase, filled with the very essentials, but certainly not with enough of the things a baby needed – or the authors of the maternity books in the TARDIS thought were necessary. Woman’s underwear was hung up to dry on a line in the corner of the room. There was no oven, not even any form of heating, which I supposed was all right in summer, but I shuddered to think how miserable and cold people must be in winter. The woman and the baby were certainly not the first to hide in this little hut.

“Shh, sweetpea,” I whispered to the baby, rocking him gently and rubbing his back in soothing circles. “I’m here now. I’ve got you. Now, let’s see if I can find you a dry nappy.”

I squatted to look into the suitcase; it was open, so I supposed the owner wouldn’t mind if I checked for dry nappies. The baby had started to calm down a little, but now that the shock of the snake in the cot had gone, he noticed his damp bottom and needed that remedied.

“What are you doing?”

Standing quickly, like a thief caught red-handed, I turned around and felt dizzy as the world went blurry for a few seconds. “I...” Don’t drop the baby, I thought, don’t drop him.

“Who are you? What are you doing with my baby?” the woman’s voice had gone from terrified to upset and terrified. Not a good combination. I needed my senses back, but I still felt a little dizzy, and I felt for the edge of the bed behind me. I carefully sat, holding the baby securely.

“Snake,” I managed to say, “there’s a snake in the cot.” The cot wasn’t really more than an old clothes basket.

“What?”

“A snake,” I said, pointing at the cot. I felt better, but I didn’t trust myself to stand.

The woman must be about my age, but her gaunt and worried-looking face made her appear much older. She was thin and dressed in clothes that had seen better days but were kept in good repair, as good as one could expect from someone in hiding. Her hair was hidden beneath a headscarf, but a few dark ringlets had sneaked out from beneath it. She moved quickly to the cot, looked inside and with one determined movement grabbed the snake just behind its head and carried it outside, where a rustle of leaves and a low thud indicated that she’d thrown it into the shrubbery.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I said when she returned. I stood slowly, carefully, and this time I didn’t get dizzy. “I heard the baby cry and... well, I had to check.”

“Well, thank you,” the woman said. “Can I have him back now?”

“Of course,” I said, startled, and handed the squirming bundle over to her. “I’m Rosa, by the way. I live up at the villa.”

“Are you... waiting for... you know?” the woman asked haltingly. She needed to know, but she also was aware of the fact that she was taking a huge chance by asking me that.

“Yeah, in a way I am. But my... husband is with those helping you,” I said.

“Oh. So you’re... Galileo’s wife?”

“I...” I knew that the partisans had code names, but the Doctor hadn’t told me his, just to be safe. “I can’t tell you,” I said.

“Right, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m Laura, and this is my little boy. My damp little boy.” She patted his back.

“Well, I... I’ll leave you to it then,” I said. Then I remembered something. The additional ration book was still in the pocket of my skirt. I pulled it out and gave it to her. “Here. You’ll need it more than I.”

“But,” she said, despite reaching for the card. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I got another one by mistake. Really, keep it, and be careful, yeah?” I wanted to ask her to give my love to the Doctor, but since I didn’t know his code name and they probably wouldn’t refer to each other by name anyway, for maximum security, I didn’t say anything. I just turned around and went back into the garden and to her hammock. My dizziness had passed, but it had certainly been a reminder that I’d have to take it easy from now on, much as I hated to admit it.

-:-

The bookshop also sold stationery and beautiful fountain pens, much like the one I’d been using to write the library cards. The selection, however, was pitiably small, for which the owner of the shop apologised profusely as he crouched to find me an ink pot. I studied the pens on display. They were beautiful, but I didn’t have any money apart from what Zia had given me; besides, I didn’t have any use for a fountain pen. They needed to be used on a regular basis, but once I was back on the TARDIS, or in Lufana, I wouldn’t really need it.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Signora?” the shop owner asked after he’d found what he’d been looking for. He fished for his handkerchief in his pocket and dusted the ink pot off.

I took the folded note Zia had given me out of my pocket and handed it to him. I hadn’t looked at it so I had no idea what to expect. “The Contessa asked me to pick this up for her,” I said.

“Oh, the Contessa!” his eyes went wide. “So you’re the one. I’m sorry, Signora, we haven’t been introduced. My name’s Alessandro Albertin.”

“Rosa Pagao,” I said, taking his hand. I’d known that Zia was quite popular in town, but I’d never thought that as her guest I’d be treated so courteously.

Signor Albertin pushed his glasses which were riding on top of his bald head down onto his nose and unfolded the note. “Ah, yes, very good,” he mumbled. Then he looked up at me. “I’ll be right back, Signora. Feel free to have a look around the shop.” He didn’t say it in the usual inviting manner to entice customers to buy more than they’d come for, I knew that from my days at Henrik’s. It probably wasn’t because of the Contessa, but I didn’t really understand what it was about.

I nodded, and Signor Albertin disappeared through a narrow door I hadn’t noticed before. I followed his advice and looked around the shop, browsing the bookshelves. There really wasn’t much to set it apart from any other bookshop, aside from the mostly empty shelves in the stationery section. The narrow door was hidden between two bookcases and probably led to the office at the rear of the shop.

He returned quickly with a small package, probably a book wrapped up to prevent it from being damaged on the way home. “Have you found anything else, Signora?” he asked.

There hadn’t really been time to explore the shelves, and, glancing at my watch, I realised I had to go. The public library wouldn’t be open long, and I wanted to familiarise myself with it. “No, thank you. I’m a little late.”

“Ah, I see. Allora,” he said, writing down a couple of figures in his accounts ledger. After I’d paid him and put the ink pot and the parcel in my bag he gave me a strange, searching look. Eventually, his gaze settled on my stomach, and I covered it protectively. He wasn’t scaring me, but there was something about him that made me wary. He smiled, obviously noticing I was pregnant, and showed me to the door. “Good bye, Signora. I hope I’ll see you soon, maybe for a little longer, yes? Some coffee – or tea – while you browse my books?”

He wasn’t being pushy, I could feel that, but I also sensed that there was more to his invitation than mere politeness. That was why I was so surprised by my own reply. “I’d like that, thank you.” I really meant it. Although I hadn’t been in the shop long, I’d liked the atmosphere. Just like the library at the villa the scent of leather, paper and wood had made me feel safe and welcome. I felt at home amongst books, and I smiled softly to myself as I stepped outside into the afternoon heat.

It was a notion I’d never thought I’d have. But it felt good, and absolutely right. I realised then that if we were to go back to Lufana I wanted to work in the Observatory Library with Tayar. Despite the inauspicious start I’d really come to enjoy the work there, repairing books, and, of course, Tayar’s quiet company.

I turned on my heel and went back into the bookshop. Signor Albertin looked up from his ledger in surprise. “If I wanted to repair books,” I began, “where would I get the utensils and materials?”

“In these days, Signora?” he chuckled benevolently. “It’d be very tricky. I suppose it’s for the Contessa’s library?”

I nodded.

“Well, give me a list and I’ll see what I can do for you. She never said you were a bookmaker,” he said.

“She didn’t because I’m not. I just... a friend taught me how to do it, and I need something to keep myself occupied while I’m waiting for my husband,” I replied.

He nodded, smiling gently. “You’re not used to sitting and waiting, am I right?”

I laughed. “No, I’m not.”

“Bene. Just give me your list. Maybe you could have a look at one of my books too,” he said. “In exchange for the material.”

Although I had no doubt that Zia would pay for any expenses, I was more than a little relieved about his generous offer. “I’d really like that.”

When I stepped outside again and glanced at the clock of the campanile I saw that the visit to Signor Albertin’s shop had taken me longer than I’d thought. It was too late now to go to the library. But maybe I could take a quick look at the church. The doors were wide open, and I could hear laughter and voices coming from inside. I’d never have expected those sounds to come from a Catholic church, and, my curiosity piqued, I took the steps up to the small platform in front of the church. The open door changed from the black rectangle it had seemed from the piazza below to a window looking out over people busy protecting the priceless frescos inside the Romanesque church. They piled sand bags up against the walls as a buffer against bullets and shrapnel or falling debris.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. They were preparing for the worst. Of course, these were just precautions, but the fact that they were preparing meant that the town probably wasn’t as safe as everyone had me believe after all. The town was occupied by the Germans and it would be foolish to believe that if they were to retreat they’d leave everything behind just as they’d found it. Also, the Allied Forces might have to besiege San Girolamo if the Germans didn’t retreat before their arrival. I shuddered to think about the damage the historic buildings, and these beautiful frescos, would suffer.

My presence didn’t go unnoticed long. The resident priest had spotted me and was approaching. He was surprisingly young and good-looking in a non-conventional way. He reminded me a little of my first Doctor, but his eyes were green and his nose wasn’t quite right either. Still, I looked at him in surprise. “Buona sera, Signorina,” he said.

“Father,” I said, recovering quickly. “I hope I... I just wanted a quick look at the frescos.”

“We’re very proud of them. And worried, of course. We haven’t met yet. I’m Father Carmello.”

“Rosa Pagao,” I said. Zia had been right. Going to town was as much about me making myself familiar with San Girolamo as it was about socialising. As I loosened my grip around myself to shake his hand he noticed the shine of my wedding ring.

“Well, Signora, we need all the help we can get,” he said, his grin irresistible in a boyish way. He knew that, of course, and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“I’d love to help, Father,” I said, smiling in return, “but I’m not allowed to lift heavy objects at the moment.”

“Oh, I see. Well, anyway, you came to admire the frescos before they disappear. Feel free to have a look. I’ll be glad to help with any questions you might have, Signora Pagao,” he said, moving away as one of the teenaged boys helping with the sand bags called out for him.

I shook my head. That priest was certainly different. I sat down in the nearest pew and looked at the top half of the fresco. The imagery was biblical and I had no idea what story I was looking at. It didn’t really matter. The colours were surprisingly vibrant; I’d expected them to have faded since the 14th century. The detail was exquisite, and no matter how long I sat and looked at the pictures there was always something new to discover. All the people in the fresco were endowed with features that set them apart from each other and made them instantly recognisable when the story moved on to the next part in a new picture.

“Well?” Father Carmello returned and sat in the pew in front of me.

“They are a snapshot of everyday life of their time,” I said.

He chuckled. “Are you a historian?”

“No, but my husband is. In a way. We’re both very interested in history,” I said.

“Ah, I see. I’d like to meet him and see what he thinks of them.”

“He’s... away, you know. I don’t know when I’ll see him again,” I replied.

“Oh. I’m sure he’ll return to you safe and sound. Have faith,” he said. When he saw my expression, he hastened to add, “If nothing else, believe in him.”

“Oh, but I do,” I said.

He nodded. “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a minor emergency I need to tend to. Good bye, Signora.”

I left soon after, and found my bike where I had left it leaning against the well in the centre of the square, along with all the others that had been left there. I had been a little sceptical about leaving it unlocked, but Zia had assured me that no one stole a bike in broad daylight. She had been right. I dropped my bag into the basket mounted on the carrier and pedalled back to the villa.

When I sat down on the bench beneath the pergola I suddenly felt exhausted. I definitely needed more exercise, baby or not. Zia was already there, mending clothes. I’d never have pictured her doing that, but of course it was necessary. The clothes on the table in front of her were freshly laundered but had some tears in them. I supposed that they had been ripped while sneaking through bushes and evacuating escaped prisoners of war, but I said nothing. She would learn about my encounter with Laura and her baby soon enough, and I wasn’t in the mood to challenge her.

“Here’s your package from Signor Albertin,” I said, reaching into my bag. “I also bought some ink, if that’s okay.” I returned the money as well.

“Anything you need, cara mia,” Zia said. She acknowledged the package but didn’t take or even open it. “How is Signor Albertin these days?”

“He seemed fine to me,” I said.

“He’s a good man. I trust him,” she said, giving me another searching look.

I nodded, not sure what she was trying to tell me. It was only later, in the bathtub, that I realised she wanted me to go to him for advice in case anything should happen.


	11. Ten

Ten

I’d changed the sheets the previous night. Somehow, I found the lingering scent of him on them unbearable, because it reminded me of the fact that he wasn’t with me. He needed me to be here, I understood that, and the dizzy spell and the visit to the church had only served to remind of the fact that I needed to take very good care of myself and the baby. I knew that he was right to try to keep me safe. Although I loved him and our adventures together, I had come to the realisation that it was my job to take care of our baby. As long as he was growing inside me, he was my full responsibility. The encounter with Laura had taught me that.

It had taken me a while to realise that. But when I did, it was liberated rather than caged me in. It was my job to make our baby and to protect him. The Doctor, too, was doing his best to protect him in his own way and I knew that I had to accept it, for all our sakes. I couldn’t let him down by opposing him. He often let his instinct guide him, and if there was one thing I’d learned it was to trust his instinct. And my own, of course. If he felt I needed to stay at the villa, he did so for good reasons. I would be careful, but I wouldn’t allow others to treat me as an invalid, I was still capable of contributing while staying safe.

I still fell asleep and woke missing him, but the fresh sheets had been a good idea. One less reminder of his absence, although I felt that I was betraying him in a way.

That day, at lunch, there was an embarrassing moment when Zia returned the ration book I’d given to Laura. While my intentions had been good, she told me, I hadn’t stopped to think before I’d given it to her. As far as the authorities were concerned there was only one Rosa Pagao; the fact that she was a fictional person was beside the point. Ration cards were basically the same as identity cards. Even if I never left the villa, there was no way Laura could use my ration book. People knew me by now; Signor Albertin, Father Carmello, and the officer at the town hall who had issued the book to me.

“You’re like the Capitoline Wolf,” Zia said, smiling. “You look after the helpless.” Her smile had been friendly when she returned the card to me, approving, even. Then she produced a bundle of letters from beneath the thin blanket covering her legs. “Here, this was in the package you picked up at Alessandro’s yesterday.”

Surprised, I accepted the bundle. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest. Were these letters from the Doctor? The paper they were written on certainly looked like it came from the writing pad the Doctor kept in his trouser pocket. There were no envelopes, instead, he had used wax to seal the letters. There was one note, however, that was unsealed, and it bore my name. But instead of unfolding and reading it, I covered it with my hand, wanting to read it in the privacy of my room.

And then I understood. If the package I’d picked up at Albertin’s shop contained the Doctor’s letters, it meant that Albertin belonged to, or at least supported, the local cell of partisans. Which in turn meant that I was now one of their messengers. My heart, I think, skipped a beat when I realised that. I was the perfect messenger because I was pregnant. No one would think that I’d be part of the resistance, let alone dare lay a hand on me. It was very clever. I wondered if the Doctor knew.

“Thank you,” I breathed, stopping myself from curling my fingers around the letters lest I crumple them.

“If you have an idea, Rosa,” Zia said, “discuss it with me first. Foolishness like the other day costs lives, yes?”

-:-

Cara mia,

This is just a quick note to you. It’s the crack of dawn, and the messenger will arrive soon to take letters and other things to... well, wherever he takes them. The Doctor has sat guard for us this night, as he always does. I was glad to hear that you and the baby are well, and that you’ve apparently had a good – albeit much too short – time together. Knowing him, he won’t let on to you that his hearts broke when he had to leave you behind. I’ve never seen him so sad before, not even when the TARDIS was nearly dying. If it is any consolation to you, cara, I’ll do everything I can to send him back to you as soon as possible. There might be a chance for him to make a trip very soon, but I cannot tell you more.

The letters you’re holding are for Fenia. I know it might sound silly that I’m writing to her with no way of posting them, but I feel better writing to her than keeping a diary. May I ask you to keep them safe for me until we go back home? Life here is a bit... rough, and I don’t want to lose them. I want Fenia to know everything about my adventure with the two of you.

Don’t worry about us, cara. We’re as safe as can be, and the food is good, and most times there’s enough for all of us.

The messenger has arrived and I must stop.

Thank you, cara, and stay safe. Thoughts of you are always close to my heart.

 

Roberto

I dropped the letter and hid my face in my hands. The letters were all addressed to Fenia, and now that I’d had a closer look, I recognised Yoru’s handwriting on them, not the Doctor’s. I’d flipped through the letters, hoping to find a letter, or just a note from the Doctor, but there were only Yoru’s. The disappointment stung, but somehow the tears didn’t come. I’d read Yoru’s note several times. The Doctor hurt as much as I did, and I understood that not writing to me was his way of keeping his loneliness at bay. Just like I had needed to change the sheets.

I put the letters in the drawer of my bedside table, and Yoru’s note along with them. I tried hard not to put too much hope in his suggestion that the Doctor might be able to return to me sooner rather than later.

I also wondered about the other messenger, the one who travelled between the partisan hideout and Albertin’s shop – if, indeed, the line of communication was as simple as that. I could imagine that there were more stops involved on the journey for safety reasons. Also, I had no idea how far away the camp was. It occurred to me that it couldn’t be too far away if Laura was staying in the shed. My heart thumped faster. Did that meant they were actually quite close to the villa? Or did it mean they were staying farther away and would pick Laura and the baby up on their way to... wherever it was they went?

Dropping my hands into my lap, I sighed. There were just too many variables in this, and it was safer that way. I’d have to be patient, very patient. It was going to be hard, but I could do it.

-:-

I filled my days with work in the library and keeping Zia company as she darned clothes. Sometimes, when it wasn’t too hot, I pushed her through the garden. We often sat in the shadow of the trees, or I dozed in the hammock and she in a deckchair. We read, talked and enjoyed each other’s company. When I asked her if Laura was gone, she said yes; they’d had to wait another day after I’d found her. I nodded, balling my hands into fists in my lap. It meant that they would be gone for quite a while.

Zia reached out for my fist and covered it with her hand. “I know, cara mia, I know.”

I sighed, then took a deep breath and smiled. “I’ve been looking at some of the books. They’re in an appalling state and I was wondering if you’d mind me fixing them,” I said.

Her expression of sympathy – it was always sympathy, never pity, for which I was very grateful – changed to surprise. “You could do that?”

“Yes. I picked up the very basics. It’s not much, but at least it’ll stop them from falling apart until you can call an expert in to fix them,” I said. Her surprise had changed to delight, and I was glad I had found something with which to repay her for her kindness. I still felt a little bad for giving Laura my ration book. She had been right about that, of course.

“How will you come by the materials? I haven’t got any of the tools or the paper you’ll need,” Zia said.

“Signor Albertin said he could help,” I said. “If I repair some of his used books for him. Would that be all right?”

Zia looked out over the garden. She stuck out her bottom lip. “I suppose it is, yes. You’d get out more.”

“Do you want me to go out more?” I asked, startled. I had gotten used to the quiet life of the villa. One day flowed into another without much to interrupt them. I had, in the end, developed my on system for the villa’s library and it had been unnecessary to visit the one in town after all. I also found that I was much more content now that I knew I had a role to play as a messenger in the resistance.

“It’ll make your trips to Alessandro’s less conspicuous, dear. And...” she interrupted herself.

“And?”

She batted the word away as if it were a fly. Smiling, she shook her head. “Nothing, it was just a thought. Nothing to worry about, cara mia.”

I went to town every other day, always with a different pretext, a new errand to run. On one of these occasions I went back into the church on the main square to pay another visit to the beautiful frescos. Most of them had been covered by sandbags and, because you could stack sandbags only so high, an assortment of sheets, table cloths and sacks sown together. “It won’t do much,” Father Carmello said, startling me, “but it’s better than nothing.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, playing with a lock of my hair.

“How are you doing, Signora?” he asked.

My eyes widened. “Fine, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“The town doctor’s office is just around the corner,” he said.

I nodded, confused. “I’m all right, really.”

“You are a bit pale.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. While he had been nothing but solicitous, I felt intruded upon by him. I didn’t reply, but moved to stand. He stepped away to give me some room.

“Forgive me if I have offended you in some way, Signora,” he offered.

“I miss my husband, that’s all,” I said under my breath, referring to the Doctor; but of course he couldn’t know that.

“Any word when he’ll be back?” he asked, genuinely sympathetic now. The man puzzled me. He seemed to be so very unlike what I had imagined a Catholic priest of that time to be. He took an interest in his flock, but sometimes I felt he was really interested in me. In a not entirely professional way. He wasn’t flirting with me. But there was something about him that I found hard to grasp, and that worried me. Was he part of the resistance, trying to see if I was worthy of their trust? Or was he trying to find out about me to betray me to the authorities?

“No, I’m afraid not,” I said, tightening my hold on my bag.

“I’ll include you in my prayers tonight, Signora,” he said, nodding. Then he left, his cassock rustling softly as he hurried away.

“He’s a good man,” an elderly lady said, offering me a glass of water. “He’s right, you are a bit pale. I’m his housekeeper, Flora.”

I accepted the glass and drank deeply. “It is a bit hot today,” I admitted. “Thank you.” I held the glass out for her.

“The café across the street is nice and shady. It’s my brother’s. Give my love to him, and he’ll look after you for a while, no questions asked,” Flora said.

“The café... isn’t it part of the hotel, La Cisterna?” I asked.

Flora nodded vigorously. “It is. The Germans frequent it, but don’t let that deter you. They have some lovely pasticceria, and I think the Contessa would appreciate it if you brought back some. She hasn’t been there in a while,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s very generous.”

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Anything for the Contessa. We owe her so much.”

-:-

With every day that passed I grew more and more restless as time went by without word from his cell. Even Zia seemed nervous, and for the first time since I’d known her I missed her quiet comfort, her reassurance. A week after the Doctor had left I had a particularly bad day. My anxiousness was taking its toll on my body, and I ended up dizzy and feeling nauseous in the library. Tears of frustration streamed down my cheeks as I slid to the floor, putting my head between my knees to fight the nausea. That was how Luisa found me.

“Signora,” she said softly, kneeling in front of me in her prim black dress with the crisp white apron over it. She smelled of food, and I covered my nose and mouth with my hand to fend it off. I couldn’t eat anything, the mere thought of food made me feel even more sick.

“Go and have a rest,” she said. “I’ll come and look after you after I’ve told the Contessa.”

I nodded but didn’t move.

“Will you be all right?”

“I think so,” I sniffled.

I couldn’t remember how I had made it to my bedroom. I lay down on the bed in my underwear. The room was cool and the bed so wonderfully soft. All I wanted was to fall asleep straight away, sleep away the awful time till the Doctor’s return.

When Luisa came she brought the scent of espresso with her, the rich scent of strong, Italian coffee. I hadn’t had any coffee in ages. The scent perked me up a little. This was even better than my beloved maklak.

I propped myself up on my elbows. “That smells divine.”

“It’s not exactly the lunch you should have,” Luisa said, “but I think one doppio every now and then won’t do you any harm. You haven’t had any since you’ve been here.”

I sat up, stood and joined her at the small table in the corner of the room where she put down the tray. She had laid out some of the hard almond biscuits on a small plate to dip into the coffee.

“You’re a saint, Luisa,” I said. “Thank you.” I gestured for her to sit. To my surprise she did without objection.

“Anything for you, Rosa,” she said.

I looked up, furrowing my brow. What had I done to deserve her gratitude?

“The Contessa enjoys your company so much,” she explained. “You can’t know that, of course, but ever since you’ve been with us, she’s been... less withdrawn.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. “Well.” I hadn’t done anything but give her reason to worry.

I was truly stunned when she reached into the pocket of her apron. “This arrived just after I left you in the library.” She handed me a folded note.

I took it and read it. It was short and to the point. Signor Albertin was pleased to let me know that my order had arrived. I refolded it and tucked it under the tray. Then I spooned sugar into the rich black coffee in its small cup.

“I guess I’ll go to town after the siesta. Is there anything you need my to pick up?” I asked casually.

“I’ll make you a list. Get whatever you can, don’t worry about the rest, Signora,” Luisa said, her earlier outburst forgotten. She smiled and nodded, then stood and left me to my cantuccini and espresso.

-:-

I couldn’t wait to get to town, but all the same I had my espresso and sweets and lay down for my midday nap. Although I’d thought that I wouldn’t be able to sleep after the high dose of caffeine, I slept like a baby and woke well-rested. I hadn’t slept better since the Doctor had curled up around me.

After I’d told Zia about the note, I took the bike and rode to San Girolamo to pick up my order. While I was riding the bike I wondered if paying the local doctor a visit wasn’t a bad idea after all. Although I didn’t quite trust Father Carmello, that morning’s episode had left me somewhat unsettled and I wanted to make sure that everything was all right with the baby. Maybe the doctor could squeeze me in between appointments, provided his surgery was open that afternoon.

After I’d picked up the package at Signor Albertin’s shop I went to the surgery to see if it was open, and if I could make an appointment. I arrived at the office door at the same time as the doctor himself, a thin man in his middle age with a bushy moustache and friendly brown eyes. He told me to come with him.

“There’ll only be the usual crowd,” he assured me. “Elderly ladies and gentlemen who need a bit of attention and a friendly face. Nothing that can’t wait.”

The doctor listened to my heartbeat, took my blood pressure and listened to me attentively. I could tell people trusted him. He offered a pelvic exam, but I declined. “Do you feel well, Signora?” he asked.

“I do, most of the time. The heat, though,” I started. I wasn’t used to it any more, not since we had left Sho, but I couldn’t tell him that. “The Contessa’s housemaid gave me a double espresso for lunch. And cantuccini.”

“Oh, you’re lucky, Signora,” he said. “Luisa’s cantuccini are the best. And an espresso every now and then won’t do you any harm, not if your circulation is a bit sluggish. As far as I’m concerned, Signora Pagao, you’re doing very well. But I’d like to suggest a full exam within the next fortnight nevertheless. Think about it. I won’t mind if you’d like to have someone with you, for support, you know.”

I smiled in relief. “Thank you so much, Dottore,” I said. Although the Doctor had reassured me that I was in perfect health, it was good to know that a real, lower case doctor agreed. Particularly since I had no idea when I’d see the Doctor again. I caressed my tiny bump to let the baby know everything was all right. I had read enough pregnancy books to know that a mother’s mood can rub off on the baby.

I rode back to the villa feeling much more content. I knew that I needed to be as calm as I could for the baby. I knew, too, that if the Doctor were with me he’d make sure that I maintained that contented calm, whether on the TARDIS or at Sho. When I arrived at the villa I gave the parcel to Zia and went straight to my room, undressed and stood in front of the mirror behind the screen, caressing the tiny swell of my stomach. I’d have never thought that I’d be one of those mothers who did that, but with all the uncertainty around me, I found it calming myself as well as the baby.

“I love you,” I said, running my hands over my stomach, addressing both the baby and his absent father.

At dinner that night, Zia gave me another bunch of letters addressed to Fenia and a note from the Doctor. My fingers were shaking when I unfolded the note at the dinner table, unwilling to wait for the privacy of my room. Zia would have to know sooner or later anyway.

“They’re back,” I said, exhaling in relief. “They’re back!”

“Thank God,” Zia said, crossing herself.

“Gio has booked a room at the Cisterna for tomorrow night,” I said, a little breathless.

“Go,” Zia said. “For however long he might have, go and stay with him. He’ll need you, Rosa.”


	12. Eleven

Eleven

Day 19

Fenia colian, keri,

We have just returned from another rescue mission. I’m told it was our last for the time being. There are more pressing matters to be taken care of now. I don’t want to think about it too much. I am exhausted and I can barely keep my eyes open, but I also know that if I lay down I wouldn’t be able to go to sleep because my mind is reeling.

It was a close thing, this rescue mission. We took two English soldiers and a young woman with her baby to a safe place far away, which is why we were travelling for a whole week. I have no idea where we went because I’m so unfamiliar with the geography here. We were shown maps, of course, but I didn’t look at them. I cannot admit my ignorance of life here, so I’ve been cultivating a reputation for being quiet and reticent. Also, the need for secrecy helps, so I just turn away when they discuss itineraries, claiming I don’t want to know for security reasons.

Someone must have betrayed us, or the ambulance that was meant to pick us up, to the authorities. It was to take us to a religious community, which the Germans don’t dare touch, but it never appeared. There, I believe, they will stay for a couple of days to recover before they move on in the guise of some untouchable person and travel to safety.

Claiming our ambulance – a large motorcar for the transport of sick and injured people – had broken down we travelled by horse cart with a farmer at first, and then with another ambulance. They were taking real patients to the convent we were travelling to. I felt very guilty for imposing our disguised patients on them, but we had to make use of the role I’d taken on or we might have had to abort the mission. The attending nurse in the ambulance eyed me with barely concealed hatred, but my presence also meant that we would be able to travel without being bothered by too many controls. The fact that Giorgia is a real nurse and offered her some help made her relax, particularly when Giorgia refused her help in return. If that nurse had discovered that our patients were unhurt beneath their bandages... I don’t want to follow this idea through.

When we finally reached our destination I was so relieved to have made it unscathed that I broke down down in the room I was given and curled up in a ball. I didn’t cry, I couldn’t, but my whole body was shaking. There are no words to properly convey the terror of travelling and being checked time and again. You see, keri, when the ambulance failed to show up we also didn’t get the paperwork we needed for safe passage. Although the Doctor has his psychic paper, it doesn’t replace the paperwork the Germans demand. And let me tell you that they are very particular about the papers being in order.

The Doctor told them about our papers being stolen, along with the ambulance we should have been travelling in, cursing the partisans in a colourful language I blush to remember. I’ve never heard the Doctor talk like that before, nor have I seen the fury in his eyes. It is terrifying and impressive. He always got what we wanted.

Our success was partly due to the fact that – and I am ashamed to be telling you about it, but I need you to understand – I am wearing an enemy uniform; they’re a dead man’s clothes, deftly mended by a seamstress for the partisans, but I prefer not to dwell on their previous owner. The uniform terrifies me just as much as it does the people I meet. But with their terror also comes hatred, and more often than not I feel filthy, regardless of why I’m wearing the ugly grey thing.

Despite my uniform the wait for the commanding officer’s decision whether we were cleared was interminable. While the soldiers weren’t exactly pointing their guns at us, I kept thinking that if they wanted to shoot us they would and could do so in the blink of an eye. But my uniform gave our story credibility and we were allowed to move on.

I wore it on my way back too, but I travelled alone and I was amazed, once again, by the quick progress I made because of it. Giorgia and the Doctor set off to San Girolamo together, but they haven’t arrived yet.

I have a small room at a hotel in the town of San Girolamo; it’s a lovely place, not unlike Lufana, but it’s not safe. It’s crawling with Germans because it is one of their last strongholds in the area. My uniform would certainly help me here as well, but I had to take it off before reaching the town. Now I am Signor Pagao (don’t laugh!), and Italian, and Rose is my wife. I am a professor of astronomy who has come to do research here. It’s hardly conceivable that academic life goes on during a war, but here I am, and I’m glad for it. Now, at least, I have a role I am comfortable with, even though I don’t know the sky above me as well as I would like to.

The Doctor has taught me the very basics about Earth’s night sky, enough for me to pass myself off as an astronomer. Also, his lessons were a good way of whiling away the time when we had to wait. Wait is all we do sometimes. Life as a partisan is not always as blood-curdlingly exciting as this letter might have led you to believe.

Giorgia, too, has shown me the stars, albeit in an entirely different way. I am in love with her, keri. I have fallen hard and fast for this girl from Earth. Although we’ve been together several times, I’ve not told her that I love her. I’m afraid it will spoil what seems to be building between us. The peace I find when I’m with her leaves no doubt in my mind though, and I am pretty sure she feels the same way. For me, she’s everything, and I’m sure of it, because... She deserves more, and I want to give myself over to her. I dare not think about the day when I’ll have to leave. I’m not sure if she returns my feelings; she hasn’t said the actual words, but when I look into her eyes I can see love in them. She’s like Rose, so very confident; she knows exactly what she wants – but I cannot ask her to leave her home for me. I’m not sure I’ll be able to leave her.

So you see, keri, I am fine. I cannot say I’m safe – I’m in love in the middle of a war.

M'aruu, keri, and stay safe.

-:-

I didn’t want to wait until after the siesta to ride to town, but my body betrayed me. After a night full of anticipation and the fitful sleep that comes with it I kept yawning all morning. Eventually, I gave up on trying to cut the endpaper lest I cut myself or, worse, damage the precious paper. I had no idea how Signor Albertin had managed to come by the rare materials I needed to repair books, and I didn’t ask. There was a war on and things didn’t work the way everyone was accustomed, or expecting, it to. You had to be thankful for what you could get.

“You’ll upset the baby,” Zia remarked, watching me fidget in my seat. Despite my exhaustion, I felt anxious and restless. I lay back in my chair and caressed my stomach.

“You’re right,” I said, although I thought that the baby was too tiny yet to pick up on my moods. I couldn’t even feel it yet, not even the brush of a butterfly’s wing some of the books back on the TARDIS had promised. But then again, I couldn’t be sure the baby wasn’t feeling anything yet. His father was a telepathic alien; he might have only one heart, but he might have inherited that particular ability. I yawned.

I slept soundly through the siesta, then I rode my bike to town to meet the Doctor at La Cisterna at the arranged time. I should have been prepared to meet Yoru in such a public place; after all, as far as the townspeople were concerned he was my husband, even though they hadn’t seen us together before. But since there was no telling how long we’d have to keep up the charade for, we’d better stick to the story Zia and I had come up with.

Yoru was sitting in the café that was part of the hotel and stood as he saw me approach. He looked tired and a bit thinner than when I’d last seen him, but he was smiling a genuine smile. My disappointment must have flickered over my face. I’d wanted him to be the Doctor. I froze.

Yoru took me in his arms and whispered for me to play along. Numbly, I returned the hug and clung to him. “The Doctor’s all right, yeah?”

“Don’t worry, k... cara,” he said, kissing my cheek. Then, locking eyes with me briefly to make sure I understood, he brushed my lips with his and then he kissed me passionately. Startled, I opened up beneath him, and I could taste him as our tongues met for the fraction of a heartbeat. We pulled apart almost at once, me blushing furiously, Yoru suppressing a smile. He took me by the arm and guided me to his table. The other patrons, a mix of Germans and locals, had seen our show and returned, smiling, to their own business. From the corner of my eye I could see Father Carmello hurry across the square.

“I’m sorry,” Yoru whispered to me. He ran his hand over the swell of my stomach. I stiffened but realised that it was all part of the show. “He’s grown quite a bit.”

“Yeah,” I breathed.

After the waitress had taken my order, Yoru handed me another of his sealed letters. I put it in my handbag, ensuring that it didn’t get crumpled by its contents. I had put everything I might need for the night in there. It wasn’t much, just the bare essentials of toiletries and a fresh pair of knickers.

“Where’s Gio?” I asked.

“Upstairs, getting some rest. He and Giorgia arrived shortly after lunch,” Yoru explained. The mention of Giorgia’s name stung a little. It meant they had been travelling together, and while I trusted the Doctor completely, I didn’t trust her at all.

“You were gone for an awfully long time,” I said, making it a statement that didn’t come across as casually as I’d wanted it to.

He sighed. “Things got complicated.”

“But you are all right?”

“Yes, cara, we are,” he said, wrapping his fingers around my hand as it rested on the table. My piece of pastry and the glass of watered-down juice arrived, but I found I was neither hungry nor thirsty. In fact, I felt almost nauseated. Knowing that the Doctor was so close to me while I couldn’t get to him put an end to the feeling of relative calm that I had enjoyed since my nap.

“Roberto, I...”

“I know, I know,” he said. He lowered his gaze to our hands, our fake wedding bands gleaming in the sun. “I... I know exactly how you feel.” He cast a glance upwards, to the shuttered windows in the vine-covered wall. When he returned his gaze to me I understood.

“Have you fallen in love with her?” I asked, only to be shushed by him. I coloured. But even so I repeated my question. “Have you, Roberto?”

He could barely suppress his grin. “I have.”

“Oh,” I said, withdrawing my hand. I picked up my pastry and took a bite. I knew it was delicious, but right at that moment my tongue felt dry.

His face fell. “What?”

I tried to smile. “I am happy for you, I really am,” I began.

“But?”

Everything! I wanted to cry. She’s from Earth, we’re in the middle of a war, and we have no idea how long we’ll be here for. I sipped the watery juice. That was rich, coming from me. I was from Earth, and it hadn’t stopped me from having my heart stolen by an alien. “She makes you happy, yeah?”

He nodded, beaming. “Very much, cara. So very happy.”

“I went to see the town doctor the other day,” I said.

Taking my hand again, he nodded, “And?”

“I’m all right. The baby’s all right. But... but I felt a bit restless, having to wait for you.”

“I couldn’t get away any earlier than last night,” he said, “things have been crazy. I’m sorry, cara.”

I smiled, brushing my thumb over the backs of his fingers. “I know. When do you think this project of yours will be finished?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

I told him about the library and the church we finished our food. He guided me into the hotel with his hand in the small of my back, collecting the key at the front desk on our way upstairs. Flora’s brother nodded at me. “I trust the Contessa enjoyed the pastry, Signora Pagao?”

“She did, thank you,” I said, smiling warmly at him.

The interior of the hotel was cool and dim. Yoru led me up two flights of wooden stairs, through a door to a small hall with only two doors. “This is your room,” he explained, pointing at the door marked 184 and producing another set of keys from the pocket of his trousers. “Giorgia and I are next door.”

I flushed.

“The walls are thick,” he reassured me with a wink. I flushed even more. “You’re radiant, Rose. Take good care of him.”

“I will,” I said. “And... enjoy.” It was his turn to blush and I giggled, turning away from him to fit the key into the lock. My fingers were trembling with anticipation and it took me a while to unlock the door. I went inside quietly, stepping out of my shoes as soon as I had closed the world out. A flash of arousal raced through me, ending in a fuzzy warm feeling in my core.

The Doctor lay prone on the bed, one hand dangling over the edge of the mattress, clad only in the towel he had wrapped around his waist after his shower. He was sound asleep, his face half-buried in the soft pillow. He was so relaxed that his lips were slightly parted, and when I touched his back he didn’t even sigh or move to acknowledge my touch.

“Poor baby,” I whispered, biting my lips as soon as the words had left my mouth. I’d never called the Doctor baby before. It had never suited him, but the way he lay before me invited the endearment.

The room was smaller than the one at the villa and easily dominated by the large iron bed. There was just enough space for a small desk and chair and a set of bedside tables. The shutters were closed, of course, but when I fiddled with the slats I could see nothing but open landscape on the horizon. The hotel was on the edge of the old town that perched on one of the highest elevations in the area.

I stripped down to my knickers and camisole and sat beside him on the bed with my book. Carrying a book wherever I went had become a habit, and I was glad that I had slipped it into my handbag. Now that I had the Doctor back I felt much better; I’d hoped he’d be awake but just having him by my side was enough.

He woke with a cry and a gasp, startling both of us. Pulled back to the present, I yelped, dropping my book; it fell to the wooden floor with a thunk, the pages fluttering shut.

“Doctor?” I asked, reaching out for him. He jumped again. He couldn’t see me because he’d turned away from me as he woke. I moved close to him and bent over him. “Iyo.”

He turned his head to look at me. His eyes widened, then sparkled as he smiled for me. “Rose,” he whispered. He rolled over to draw me into his arms. Unbidden, the memory of Yoru’s kiss popped up in my mind and I hesitated briefly before I dove and stole a kiss from his lips.

“You’re back,” I said, the words coming out wrapped in a heavy sigh as I fully appreciated his presence and the tension melted away.

“So I am.” His kiss was restrained, reluctant to let go and pour all of his feelings into it for fear of overwhelming both of us with the power of his feelings. I shivered as his thoughts crossed my mind.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“You can hear me?” he asked, his eyes going wide in amazement.

I breathed in and out. “I guess so, yeah. Is that... a good thing?”

He nodded, sliding his hand to the back of my neck to pull me to him for another kiss. This time, his kiss was gentle and loving, as if we had all the time in the world. It was pleasant because he was not there, in my mind, and I just basked in the malialioness and taste of him.

“And now?”

“It was... lovely. But you weren’t there.”

“Good,” he grinned, and kissed me again.

His other hand drifted down my side to the hem of my camisole. For a while he caressed the sliver of skin between my knickers and the cami as we kissed. “Lie back for me. Please.”

Reluctantly, I let go of him and settled back. He pulled up my camisole to expose the swell of my stomach that was now close to deserve being called a bump. A tiny bump, but a bump nevertheless. I smiled at him.

“He’s grown a lot,” he observed, caressing my stomach.

“I suppose so,” I replied. He hadn’t seen me in over a week. Since I looked at myself every day I wasn’t as aware of changes as he was. He dropped a kiss onto my stomach.

“I’m sorry for the long wait,” he said, looking up at me. I cupped his cheek.

“You’re here now,” I replied.

He nodded vigorously.

“Did you take Laura and her baby to a safe place?” I asked.

“We did, yeah.”

“Good.” I didn’t dare ask how long he could stay this time. I didn’t want to spoil the mood right now by thinking ahead and counting down the time we’d have together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked in between kisses to my stomach.

I sighed. “I had a dizzy spell.” He looked at me in alarm. “But Luisa gave me an espresso doppio and some sweet biscuits and it was gone. And the doctor said I’m fine.”

“The doctor?” he echoed, furrowing his brow. I told him about my week, leaving out the part in which Zia had made me a messenger for the resistance. He’d only worry more about me, besides, the fewer people who knew the better. “So, I’m fine,” I concluded.

“Bored to tears, I suppose,” he said, dropping one last kiss onto my bump.

“Well,” I began, tucking my tongue between my teeth. I sat up. “Let’s say I have ample opportunity to devise evil plans for seducing you when you’re here.”

“Oh,” he squeaked. “Nice.” He sat up as well, tearing away the towel he’d wrapped around his hips. It had come loose anyway and was exposing more than it was covering up; particularly now that he was beginning to harden.

“Don’t expect too much,” I cautioned him, laughing when I saw his face fall. “It’s basically about shagging you into next Tuesday.”

“Sounds perfect,” he grinned.


	13. Twelve

Twelve

I pulled my cami over my head, dropping it carelessly behind me. The Doctor’s eyes went immediately to my breasts. With a gentle touch to my shoulder he told me to lie back, and he followed me, stretching out beside me so he could caress me more comfortably.

“I can’t believe what I’m doing. What I’m missing,” he said, cupping the breast farthest from him. It had become fuller and heavier — so much so that I was happy to take off my bra as soon as possible. It turned out that they had also become more sensitive. Shocks of pleasure coursed through me and straight to my sex as he touched them. When he bent with a wicked smile to suckle and nip my nipple I shrank away from him. The rush of desire and pleasure was too much; he nearly made me come just by touching me. I didn’t want that. I wanted this to be slow because I’d been missing him so much, and I wanted it to last.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, recoiling as if I’d burnt him.

“No!” I cried, desperate to reassure him and terrified of him stopping. “No. I’m just… I hadn’t realised how sensitive they’ve become.” It almost sounded a little reproachful of him not being there. But it was true; I didn’t derive much pleasure from masturbating. I’d never been a tit woman — touching my breasts had never helped to bring my orgasm along. It just wasn’t the same when I touched them myself.

“Don’t you…?” he asked. It was a bit unsettling how well he knew me and what I was thinking.

I bit my lip. “No.”

“Do you want to make love?”

“Yes! Yes, I do; it’s just… it’s not the same without you. I’d love you to make love to me,” I said. I lifted my head to kiss him. “I really do. It’s all I’ve been thinking of. God, I’m so horny.”

He grinned his lop-sided smile, the one that did things to me.

“You are?”

I nodded.

“That makes two of us. But I think that if we just pounce on each other it’ll be over very soon,” he said, his eyes darkening.

“Well, what do you want, iyo?”

“I want… I want… saviratu,” he said, his voice choking. “Tamonn migar ti cayio ni timyi.”

“Oh.” An intense wave of love rushed through me. He only rarely told me in such powerful words how much he loved me; he usually just showed me.

“I miss you so much when I’m out there, Rose,” he said, kissing me. “So much it hurts.”

“Tri tu miras’tu, Doctor,” I said. I knew I couldn’t just ask him why he didn’t take the psychic paper so we could return home to the TARDIS, to Sho. He couldn’t. He had to help these people. I also couldn’t tell him how much I truly missed him. He felt guilty enough as it was; I couldn’t bring myself to make it worse.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you,” he whispered in between kisses.

I didn’t reply.

“I’d like to make you come. If you want,” I offered after a languid kiss.

“I’d like that,” he purred.

“Then lie back against me,” I said, pushing him gently away. He watched me in fascination as I shimmied out of my knickers. I shifted to lie propped up against the pillows that I piled up against the iron headboard. He was distracted for a moment as I spread my legs, but eventually he did as I told him.

“I won’t be able to do much this way,” he pointed out as he rested his head against my shoulder. I wrapped my right leg around his, tucking my foot beneath the back of his knee. My left leg came to rest alongside his. He must be able to feel my heat in his back.

“No, you won’t,” I said. “Which is kind of the point. Now close your eyes, ngudia sam.” Just to make sure he got my point I gently covered his eyes with my right hand. He tickled me with is lashes as his eyes fluttered shut.

I began to run my hands up and down his torso, trying to reach as far as I could — I couldn’t, from this position, touch his cock, but I could see it from a very new angle. I really liked the way it curved upwards, almost as if were pointing the way to me. I started to caress the Doctor’s face with my right hand, dragging the fingers of my left hand lazily over his stomach and chest.

“That’s nice,” he purred.

“You’ll have to touch yourself. I can’t reach,” I said. “Touch yourself and tell me what it feels like.”

“I have a better idea,” he said. “Touch my temple.”

I hadn’t thought of imiyatun when I’d asked him to lie back against me. I cupped the side of his head with my hand at the same time as he wrapped his fingers around himself. There was a twinge in my abdomen and I could feel my arousal turn liquid.

The feeling was electric and I pushed my chest into his back, moaning a little in surprise. What followed then was a mixture of my muscle memory mixing with his touch, but it was curious to experience what he felt when he played with himself. It was still the velveteen solidness, but mingled with it was the knowledge of how much pleasure we both derived from his cock. This mutuality took me by surprise — Jimmy and Mickey had probably only ever thought about how much pleasure they could receive from their cocks, not how much they could give. The Doctor’s thoughts were consumed with the desire to be one with me again, to feel me rippling around him just as much as wanting to reach and discover as many of the delicate spots inside me as possible.

“You’re incredible, yamu’sati,” I whispered. He loved my breath against his ear, and he rewarded my words instantly with a sigh and twitch in his hands. “I love the feel of your cock.”

“You do?” he moaned.

“Yeah. Touch yourself some more.”

He began to stroke and squeeze himself, alternating between light and firm touches, showing me exactly what he liked. We’d watched each other before, but we’d never taken that last step of intimacy and shared the whole experience. His temple was slowly starting to become slick beneath my fingers, and I briefly let go of him to adjust my grip.

“Far’sa ra,” he growled. “It turns me on that watching and feeling me makes you so wet.”

“I won’t let you go, I’ve got you.” My heart skipped a beat. I had been so wrapped up in enjoying his sensations that I’d been unaware of my own, but now that he mentioned them I could feel the slickness between my folds as I flexed my muscles; shivers of delight coursed through my lower abdomen to pool where they had started. I moaned.

“Soki, kinam’sati, ngudia’sam,” he groaned, his movements picking up speed and firmness. “Yes.” He cupped his balls with his left hand and weighed them, giving me an idea of what they felt like to him, before he started to gently squeeze and rub his thumb over them. I could feel their tightness and how close he was to releasing his seed.

“I want to see you come,” I whispered. “I love it when you come. It’s so incredibly sexy. I’ve got you, Doctor. You’re safe with me.”

He arched slightly away from me at that, my words like intimate touches where he wanted them most. I struggled to sit up and keep my fingers on his temple. I didn’t want to lose him now.

“Rose, please, I need you to join me. I want you to feel me both ways,” he said in one quick rush. He was very close now.

I pushed him away from me so I could kneel behind him with his bum between my thighs. I rested my chin lightly on his shoulder and touched his temple with my left hand. Then I reached down for his cock. He took my hand in his and together we drove him to completion. We both moaned as he shared his pleasure with me. It was powerful and uncontrolled; the Doctor had lost himself completely in the sensation building in his lower abdomen and in his balls as they tensed, ready to force a stream of life out of him. He was so vulnerable but he couldn’t imagine a safer place than my arms and the warmth of my body; he knew that our baby was safe with me.

“Oh Doctor,” I moaned, gently biting his shoulder as the tension coiled ever more tightly.

“See, Rose, what you do to me?” he panted.

And then he erupted, the suddenness of it making me shrink back and cry out in bliss. I almost let go of him as the world around us went blank and we fell, letting go of everything with one shout of total abandon. It was beautiful and sad, this short few moments when our hearts beat so fast that they felt as if they might stop. And I was the only one he’d ever allow to make it happen.

His semen covered both our hands but I kept stroking to prolong our orgasm. His hand fell away from mine and he slumped back against me, trusting me to catch him. I settled back against the pillows with him, liberating my legs and stretching them alongside his. I held him close and murmured to him to keep him safe in the comfortable darkness of his bliss. I’d dropped my fingers from his damp temple so he could enjoy the most private of places in peace.

I held him to me and kissed his slick skin, caressing him so he knew I was still there. His weight was getting a bit uncomfortable as he squashed my tender breasts, but I said nothing.

Eventually, he stilled my hands on his chest, holding them to his hearts. They had slowed down now, but his chest was still sticky, and his earthen scent filled my nostrils. “Thank you, Rose.”

“I could lie like this forever,” I began, shifting a little, “if my boobs weren’t so sensitive.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, my love,” he said, moving with the clumsiness of post-orgasmic drowsiness. He rolled off me, drawing me with him. He needed to be held, and I was happy to oblige. I’d missed him so, and I was terrified of losing him.

“Don’t be,” I said, kissing him just below his clavicle. “I’ll be all right.”

-:-

We made love twice afterwards, once slowly and a second time more heatedly, but we didn’t share in each other’s pleasure. As beautiful as imiyatun was, it was also emotionally draining and a very powerful experience. We agreed that it should be saved for special times.

Eventually, we went down to the courtyard for a frugal dinner. I was ravenous and I don’t think I’d ever tasted anything as delicious as the meal of grilled vegetables and a salad of tomatoes and day-old bread. There was a morsel of cheese for each of us and the Doctor gave me his, claiming that he didn’t like spoilt milk. He worried about me getting a balanced diet.

It was painful to pretend I was Yoru’s wife. Giorgia sat facing me, and her hand was on the Doctor’s, all for the benefit of the German officers on the patio. I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about, but I didn’t know what bothered me more: that I was rubbish at acting or that she was so good at it. She had, of course, had more practice at it. When the Doctor and I were travelling we didn’t pretend to be someone else often. Most of the time people accepted us for who we were. In that regard, the Doctor had once told me, Humans were notoriously paranoid.

My only consolation was that there were moments when it was obvious that Giorgia had as hard a time pretending she was the Doctor’s wife as I had looking love-lorn at Yoru. It was a good idea that couples did not sit facing each other.

I was barely aware of the conversation. Yoru and the Doctor were discussing the night sky at some point, and I think that Giorgia made an attempt to get to know me, but our earlier exertion had caught up with me and I suddenly felt weighed down with exhaustion. I declined dessert, which consisted of nuts and peaches.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, standing when I realized that I might well fall asleep at the table.

“Are you all right, cara?” Yoru asked, standing as well and wrapping his arm around me. I wanted it to be the Doctor’s arm and I nearly shook him off.

“I’m just a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

Giorgia winked at me. She’d been walking a bit awkwardly too when she’d joined us at the table, but she saw Yoru all the time. It didn’t occur to me that all they ever got were brief stolen moments and quick shags in some dark corner, more often than not up against a wall.

“I think we should retire,” Yoru said. Dusk was just beginning to fall, but already the waxing moon had risen high and bright in the darkening sky. The hills in the east were beginning to fade into the haze, and the crickets and swallows shrieked and chirped continuously. “Good night, everyone.”

The Doctor cast me a worried glance. He clearly wanted to accompany me but he and Giorgia had to stay a while yet.

Yoru climbed the stairs behind me, no doubt ready to catch me in case I stumbled and fell, but I wasn’t that tired.

“Would you like me to sit with you for a while?” he offered. We were alone in the hall so there was no need to put on a show.

“I’d like that, but I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep on you,” I said, touching his arm.

“I can live with that.”

Of course, the Doctor had asked him to sit with me, and while it was sweet it was also a little suffocating. I could take care of myself. I was just tired.

“Tell me a story, Yoru,” I said as I stretched out on the bed. Yoru stood awkwardly at the foot, looking at the tangled sheets.

“What kind of story would you like to hear, accalein?” In the privacy of the room he could return to the reassuring terms of endearment of his own language. He’d asked in Ruulim, and so I replied in kind.

“I don’t know. A story you’d tell the twins?”

“You should take off your clothes,” Yoru said, turning his back. “In the meantime I’ll think of a story, yes?”

“B’aruu, keri,” I said, slipping out of my clothes and draping them carefully over a chair. I had to wear them again the next day so it wouldn’t do if they wrinkled. Clad in my cami and knickers I straightened the bed and stretched out on it. It was far too hot for the blanket, or even the thin sheet, so I lay down on top of the covers. When Yoru turned around he blushed at my state of dishabille. His gaze dropped to my stomach.

“Can I?” he asked, stepping closer to the far side of the bed.

“Of course,” I said, reaching out for him. He knelt on the mattress and let me guide his hand to cover my bump.

“It’s so amazing what you ladies are able to do; what you’re able to give us,” he said reverently.

“Can I ask you something, Yoru?” I asked.

He raised his eyes from where his hand had slipped beneath my cami to meet my gaze. He jerked his hand away as if I’d caught him red-handed. “Of course, keri.”

“What are you going to do when we have to leave?” I tugged at my camisole and rolled to lie on my side, my head propped up on my hand.

“I’ll ask her to come with me.” He said it in that tone that indicates that the answer was obvious.

“Aren’t you afraid of her saying no? She’s got Zia.”

“You had your mother. Why did you go with the Doctor?” he replied.

“He was a different man then, and we weren’t in love. But he understood about feeling the Earth move. And he needed me,” I replied.

Yoru sat back against the railing at the foot of the bed, one leg tucked under. “We love each other,” he said mildly, indicating that it was a better reason than I’d had.

“I’m sorry, Yoru. I didn’t mean to offend you or belittle you. I just want you to understand… no matter how much I love the Doctor, I’ll always miss home. And Mum,” I said.

“I know, accalein, I know,” he said. “But you don’t know Giorgia.”

I bit my lip. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

After a few beats, Yoru smiled. “So, about your bedtime story.”

“Yes?” I curled up, my head now resting on the overstuffed pillow. It was great as a prop when making love and to read but it would give me a crick in the neck if I slept with my head on it.

“In the days of my grandfathers' grandfathers lived a man called Cahri. He was a storyteller. The people of his tribe, the Dune Dwellers, loved his stories, and he told them happily in exchange for food and lodging around the camp fire to keep the icy cold of the night away,” he began.

“Is that the Vastness?” I interrupted. I knew the story of the Bird People who lived beyond the Vastness, where a prince in search of his beloved had travelled.

“No,” Yoru replied. “The Dune Dwellers are neighbours of the Bird People; they live beyond the Vastness. Anyway, one day Cahri lost his voice…”

-:-

Rose’s Gallifreyan Phrasebook:

Tamonn migar ti cayio ni timyi. – I want to break your hearts in bliss. (There is no singular form of heart in the Gallifreyan language.)

I want… saviratu – to fuck you (Fuck sounds less crude in Gallifreyan than in English.)

Far’sa ra. – Don’t let go.


	14. Thirteen

Thirteen

I tore the letter he had left for me on his pillow to shreds. I was beside myself with anger; I was as much the Bad Wolf as I’d ever been, and this time he would not be able to kiss me better. He wouldn’t get to kiss me again. Ever.

I curled up, sobbing, underneath the window. I couldn’t believe he had left me again without even saying goodbye. I had fallen asleep listening to Yoru’s soothing voice telling me a sad story from his people; Cahri had lost his voice. So had the Doctor. He had written to me, my name beckoning in black ink on one of the folded-up sheets Yoru used to write letters to his sister and me. Once upon a time I’d wished for just such a letter from the Doctor, but now I was furious at him for taking the easy way out. I knew what it said. I didn’t need to read it.

I screamed in fury.

The maid alerted Guido, the owner of the hotel, who in turn sent for the doctor. The dottore managed to calm me down without giving me any drugs; he didn’t want to harm the baby, but he later told me he would have injected me with something anyway if I hadn’t calmed down because he’d feared for the baby’s health. I’ve never in my life felt so humiliated. How could I let myself down like this, and endanger my unborn child?

The work the Doctor did was important. I realised that; but what I didn’t understand was why he felt the need to disappear on me like that. Was I caging him in? Was impending fatherhood freaking him out? He’d made it clear several times that he didn’t do domestic. The first few weeks in Lufana had been emotionally draining for both of us but he’d eventually made peace with the fact that he might lose the TARDIS — only to find that there was a cure for her after all. Maybe we shouldn’t have let things go so far. We were doing okay as best friends, and maybe we should have stayed that way.

I sat in my favourite spot in Zia’s garden after Piero took me back to the villa. Luisa had found some tea and brewed a pot of it for me. I’d never been so grateful for a cuppa; it wasn’t perfect, but the care and worry that came with it made up for its deficiencies.

I was so very ashamed of myself for breaking down.

I avoided Zia that day. I wasn’t sure what role she played in all this. If it was she who’d sent the Doctor and Yoru on a new mission I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t sure I wanted anything to do with the resistance at all. All it seemed to accomplish in my book was tear us apart.

A shadow fell over me and I blinked my eyes open. The midday heat had made me drowsy and I’d dozed off in the hammock strung between two ancient holly oaks. Shielding my eyes I recognised Giorgia standing in the dappled shadows, holding a tray with food. Checking my watch I saw it was well past lunchtime. I wasn’t hungry.

“Rosa,” she said, putting the tray on the small table. “We thought you might be hungry.”

“I’m not.”

“You have to eat,” she insisted.

“Why are you here?” I asked. Why are you here and the Doctor isn’t?

“They tell me I need a break,” she replied, sitting in one of the chairs. I wanted her to go away and leave me alone. I was still angry and I didn’t trust myself not to lash out at her. I set my jaw and looked away.

“It isn’t easy for me either,” she said.

I snorted. “What do you know, hmm?”

Giorgia tensed and as she did her ears moved like an animal’s did when it was angry. “Apparently I’m not smart enough to leave you be,” she managed to say. “I’m trying to be your friend, Rosa.” Standing, she reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a wad of torn-up paper. She dropped it unceremoniously on the tray beside the bowl of rich tomato soup. “But I see my efforts aren’t welcome.” Her dark blue eyes were flashing with anger. She left, the gravel crunching and spraying as she hurried back to the villa.

I slumped, closing my eyes.

I was being vile and she didn’t deserve it.

After a brief struggle I moved from the hammock to sit on one of the chairs at the table. The soup was probably delicious but at the moment it smelled revolting, so I picked up a slice of the unsalted bread Luisa had brought and picked up the paper Giorgia had tossed into a bit of spilt soup. I used a piece of bread to wipe the red off the paper.

It was the Doctor’s letter I had torn up earlier that morning. She must have collected the scraps from the floor in our hotel room. It finally occurred to me that Yoru wasn’t there either and she must miss him as much as I miss the Doctor. Yoru was deeply in love with her; reason told me I ought to get to know her better if she was indeed willing to leave Earth and come to live in Pagao with him. Or perhaps the reverse, maybe Yoru would leave Lufana to come live with her here. Why is it always the women who give up their homes for the men they love?

Depositing the tray on the empty chair I unfolded and smoothed the scraps of paper, laying them out like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle on the table. It wasn’t a difficult one; it wasn’t a difficult task to put the pieces together. I hadn’t torn the paper very many times.

For once I was glad that the midday was as windless as it was. Bending over the table I began to read the Doctor’s letter.

Rose, ngudia sam,

I am so so sorry for having to leave you like this. Something has come up that Yoru and I need to attend to at once lest we lose the chance to give the good people of this area some rest and peace. We’re going to do this without Giorgia. The poor girl is completely exhausted. She’s brilliant, but she needs to get some rest.

I’ll miss you terribly, iyo. I love you.

The Doctor

I sat back, bewildered. This was all he had to say? He made his standard excuse, told me something I’d gathered myself, thank you very much, and continued to ramble about a girl that meant nothing to me at all?

Taking a deep breath, I reread the letter, but of course its contents didn’t change. I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. I’d always known that I’d have to share him with the universe, that I’d come second. The baby hadn’t changed that. The letter was just a reminder of that fact.

“Oh, Doctor,” I sighed, me eyes remaining dry. All my rage and hate left me as I took a deep breath and let the air out in one long stream. Nothing I did would ever change him, so I might as well accept him for who he was.

Gathering the scraps, I placed them on the tray and picked it up to go back to the villa. I took the tray to the kitchen which, for once, was cool and empty. I placed the bowl of soup in the fridge but kept the bread to nibble on. Then I stuffed the letter into one of the compartments in the range. It wouldn’t do if the letter got into the wrong hands.

The library was warm and stuffy but the quiet, and the smell of dust and leather offered some odd kind of comfort. There had been a time when libraries intimidated me, but that had changed. I loved the library in the TARDIS as well as the one at the Observatory in Lufana. I set to work and soon forgot everything around me.

-:-

A week went by and we heard nothing of Yoru and the Doctor.

My anger had dissipated and I longed for the tiniest scrap of news, but all Zia could tell me was that no news was good news. That didn’t really reassure me; what did reassure me was that Giorgia was getting antsy. It meant that there really wasn’t any news.

I found her sitting beneath the pergola late one night, nursing a glass of wine and staring into the flame of the paraffin lamp that provided the only light. She looked worried and a bit tipsy, her chin propped on her hand.

“Hi,” I said shyly, sitting down on the bench across from her. I had gotten myself a glass of water from the kitchen. These days, I didn’t go to sleep until late at night, and I’d spent the evening reading on the balcony. Things had normalised after my breakdown, but the household usually respected my need for privacy. The Doctor’s letter, long since burnt, fuelling the fire that cooked our meals, had broken something inside me. Most of the time I was torn between missing him terribly and drawing strength from the fact that I could do this on my own. I had the baby to look after. I couldn’t afford to be weak, particularly without the Doctor around to help.

“Rosa,” Giorgia said, perking up a little. She dropped her hand heavily onto the smooth wood of the table. “Would you like some wine?”

Surprising both of us, I nodded. I drained the water and held my glass out for her to pour some red wine from the earthenware pitcher by her elbow. A glass of wine wouldn’t hurt me or the baby. Besides, I didn’t have to drink it all.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Drunk,” she groaned. “How do you think I am?”

“You’re serious about Roberto,” I said.

She nodded vigorously, reminding me of a little girl. “I love him.”

“Does he know that?” I asked.

“I haven’t told him, if that’s what you mean,” she said. “It’s not exactly the best time to fall in love with someone.”

“Or maybe it is,” I pointed out. “Reminds you of the good things in life.”

“You miss Giovanni. You’re… hurting. Everyone can see it. How can that be good?” she asked.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” I said. “I was just… You’re right. It’s not good.”

“Did he at least apologise in his letter?” she asked.

I sighed. “He did. Apparently, this mission of theirs is very important.”

“Aren’t they all.”

I sipped my wine in surprise. “Should you be saying something like that?”

“Why shouldn’t I? Just because I help them doesn’t mean I completely agree with everything they do. You know what the worst thing is?”

I shook my head.

“Roberto was in a German uniform. And when he spoke… his German was flawless. He fooled everyone. And he scared me,” she explained.

The TARDIS had been responsible for that, of course, but I couldn’t tell her. I had no idea how much Giorgia knew about who we really were. But I could understand how Yoru’s role had scared her. The Doctor scared me occasionally, and he didn’t even have to put on a uniform for that. “He’s very good,” I said. “He has a way with languages. He should have studied them instead of Astronomy.”

“It’s because there was no challenge for him in that. He told me,” Giorgia explained. “Languages come so naturally to him, they wouldn’t have held any fascination for him.”

“Did he tell you that?”

Giorgia nodded. “Giovanni is the same, isn’t he? He’s such a clever man,” she continued.

“Yes, he is.”

“How did you meet?”

“He took my hand and told me to run. He saved my life,” I said.

“Not exactly romantic, but it suits you,” she said.

“Me?”

“You’re like him,” Giorgia pointed out. “I envy you.”

Taken aback, I frowned. I had nearly ripped her head off the other day, and I was having a baby without his father. What was to envy about that?

“You’re strong and beautiful,” Giorgia said. “And very clever.”

“But you hardly know me.” Besides, I thought she was the beautiful one, with her delicate elfin features and her long chestnut locks. The first day we had met her she had worn a wig, trying out a new disguise. It had worked. Although the hair colour had been the same, the pixie cut had changed her face completely.

She snorted. “Giovanni has told me a lot about you. He loves you so much, Rosa. I wish I could be like you.”

“He loves me, yes,” I said, “but I’m sure half of what he said about me was exaggerated. Besides, you have Roberto, and he loves you.”

She perked up again. “He does?”

I laughed. “He told me, but he’s nervous about you because he’s scared of making a fool of himself.” Giorgia and I weren’t so very different after all.

“Oh.”

We sat in silence for a while. Hearing from a third party that the Doctor loved me and thought so highly of me had calmed me a little. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t love me enough to let the universe fend for itself for a little while. It was ridiculously egotistic to think like that. He was saving lives, for heaven’s sake. But I was having his baby. I’d vowed not to use the baby as an excuse for anything; I didn’t want to take the easy way out, or prey on people’s preconceived notions about pregnant women. But the Doctor was the father of my child, he was iyo, and I hadn’t felt so alone since he had sent me back to London to fight the Daleks alone.

“It’s ridiculous,” Giorgia said. “What these men reduce us to. What we allow ourselves to become just because of their mouths on ours and their dicks between our legs.”

I stared at Giorgia. Clearly the wine had loosened her tongue. “But we still love them,” I said. “They need to be loved.” It was true for Yoru as well as the Doctor. The Doctor deserved to be loved, but he also needed someone to protect him from himself sometimes. And Yoru… he just needed a woman he could love. He was such a kind and gentle soul. Why no Ruulim woman had made him her own yet I couldn’t even begin to fathom. Maybe it was something about us Earth girls that our beloved aliens needed. I giggled.

“What’s so funny? You haven’t had that much wine,” Giorgia said, glancing at my glass. I’d only sipped at the wine. It had tasted off to me, although it was probably fine. Otherwise Giorgia wouldn’t be drinking it. Bloody hormones were wreaking havoc on my taste buds. Maybe it was just as well since I wasn’t supposed to be drinking wine anyway.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Ah.”

We sat in silence after that, listening to the crickets and rustling of other nocturnal animals foraging in the shrubbery. Eventually, I began to shiver as the night became cooler, and for the first time in a week I felt ready to go to bed and sleep before midnight.

When I woke the next morning, Giorgia lay curled up in the bed next to me, snoring ever so softly. I hadn’t even noticed her crawling into bed with me. Strangely enough, however, both of us had taken off our clothes and slipped beneath the covers in our underwear.

I rolled onto my back, dropping my hand to my stomach. The baby was growing fast now, and I wondered if there was something Gallifreyan about him after all or if I was just one of the women who looked nine months pregnant long before their time.

Giorgia’s soft, slightly gravelly voice startled me when she asked, “May I?” She had reached out and her hand was hovering close to my bump. I took it and placed it on the not so tiny swell. Her hand was very warm, but then I’d been used to the Doctor’s malialioness against my skin.

“You feel so full of life,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“But you can’t feel her move yet, can you?”

“No. But I think it’s a boy.”

“I’ve heard that,” Giorgia said. “About women being absolutely sure they’re having a boy or a girl.”

“My Mum always knew I was a girl,” I said.

“Is it okay? Having a boy?” she asked.

I laughed. “I suppose so. I don’t really care, Giorgia, as long as the baby’s healthy.”

She nodded, then withdrew her hand and sat up. “Mamma mia,” she said.

“What?”

“I never even made it to my own bed.”

“I didn’t even notice until I woke,” I said, tucking the tip of my tongue into the corner of my mouth. She looked at me hard.

“So, are we friends then, Rosa?”

I nodded. “Gladly.”


	15. Fourteen

The Doctor sneaked into the kitchen in the darkest, quietest part of the night. He helped Yoru sit on the bench at the kitchen table before he roused me. At first I thought I was dreaming, but my mind couldn’t have come up with his dirt-smeared face, his prickly stubble and revolting smell. I gasped and shrank away from him where he crouched beside my bed so his face was level with mine.

“Rose,” he said.

“Doctor,” I managed to say. Then I remembered. “The bridge. That was you.”

Two days before, the resistance had blown up a bridge across the Arno River northwest of San Girolamo, cutting off the supply lines of the Germans stationed in the area around the town. The news had travelled fast and there had been talk of several of the partisans being killed, injured and taken prisoner. At the time, neither Giorgia nor I had allowed ourselves to think too much about it. The bridge was a long way away; any of the cells in the region could have been involved. Deep down, however, I had hoped and prayed that it wasn’t the Doctor and Yoru’s cell.

“Yes,” he said.

I sat up and turned on the light on my bedside table. In the time it took my eyes to adjust to the brightness the Doctor scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to make himself presentable, but in the process he revealed the cuts and bruises covering his face. I gasped and reached out for him.

“Oh my God, iyo.”

“Tri tu miras’tu,” he said, taking my hand to press a kiss into my palm. “I’m all right. It’s Yoru who needs our help.”

“He’s here?”

“He’s in the kitchen. Can you help me with him?”

“How bad is it?” I asked, reaching for the thin robe I had draped over the foot board. The Doctor rose. I could feel his eyes on my stomach, but there would be time to say hello properly later.

“He was barely able to walk by the time we reached the estate,” he said, and I noted the exhaustion in his voice.

“How long since you last slept?” I asked, stepping up to him. I stopped myself from touching him; I didn’t want to hurt him.

“I can’t remember. And it’s beside the point. We need to help Yoru,” he urged.

“Yes, right.”

As I hurried down the stairs behind him, I noticed that he was walking with a slight limp, and that there was a stiffness to his body that suggested that he was sore all over. He was such a liar, but telling him off wouldn’t accomplish anything apart from making him clam up. When we entered the kitchen Yoru was lying with his head on the table. He looked even worse than the Doctor.

“Get him onto the table,” I instructed him, taking the largest bowl I could find to fill with warm water. Zia had had a boiler installed in the kitchen, but I used only a bit of hot water and mixed it with cold water from the tap. I picked up Luisa’s soap by the sink and carried the bowl to the table.

Somehow, the Doctor had managed to wrestle Yoru onto the table. He was barely conscious, and he smiled weakly when he saw me. “Accalein,” he sighed.

“You’re safe now, keri,” I said, running my fingers over his matted hair. It seemed the only safe place to touch him.

“Where’s Giorgia?” he asked.

“She’s upstairs, asleep. I don’t want her to see you like this,” I said.

“We’re quite a sight,” the Doctor said, starting to unbutton Yoru’s shirt.

Together we set to washing Yoru who was spared any embarrassment when he passed out with a yelp of pain as the Doctor lifted him up so I could tug off the torn shirt. I doubted that Zia would be able to mend it.

“What happened?” I asked, dropping the shirt on the floor. I’d taken a tea towel out of the cupboard and began to carefully wash Yoru’s chest. His torso was covered in bruises; I wondered how many of his ribs he’d broken.

“He was thrown off his feet by the shock wave. Someone must have added explosives, just to make sure,” the Doctor growled, watching me work.

I looked at him. He wasn’t used to people not listening to him; no one ever heeded Rule Number One. Suppressing a grin, I pictured our son walking away for what he deemed a Very Good Reason. The idea made me smile but of course this wasn’t funny. “I hope they’re happy now,” I said.

“He’s dead.”

“Is it true what they say about casualties?” I asked, carefully dabbing grime off Yoru’s face.

“Three of us died, and almost everyone was injured,” he said, rinsing his tea towel in the increasingly dirty water, “but no one was taken prisoner.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

We worked in silence, stripping Yoru until he lay naked before us. The Doctor found his sonic screwdriver, which he’d sewn into a hidden pocket in his trousers. He ran it over his friend’s body to check for internal injuries. I put away the bowl and got the first aid kit from the cupboard; Luisa had shown me where to find it, just in case.

We cleaned his wounds as best possible; his cuts had already started to close up and there was little we could do. We bandaged his swollen ankle and then I went to get a blanket and pillow for Yoru. He’d have to sleep on the hard table, but there was no way we could move him up several flights of stairs and into his own bed. The Doctor injected Yoru with an antibiotic and a pain killer, then he sat heavily on the bench. I could see that his face had turned grey with exhaustion despite the dirt covering it.

“What would you like, Doctor?” I asked.

“You.”

I laughed softly. “Bath, I believe. And bed? If you’re hungry I’ll find some bread and cheese and cold meat. I’m afraid I can’t make you anything warm, because—”

“Rose,” he said.

I closed my mouth.

“You’re rambling. I’d really like you. Just your arms around me. If that’s okay.”

“Bath first,” I said firmly. I wanted to lie down with him as well, and crawl into him so we wouldn’t ever be apart again, but his smell took my breath away. He seemed grateful that I told him what to do. As I drew the bath for him, he stripped off his torn and dirty clothes. Bruises bloomed on his skin as well. They were clearly visible even under the layer of dust. I bit my lip.

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

There was a knock on the door, and we both jumped. The Doctor moved behind the door and gestured for me to open it. It was Luisa, wrapped in her robe and looking very sleepy. “Are you all right, Rosa?” Clearly, the water rushing in the pipes had roused her.

Oh dear. She’d thought something was wrong with me. “I’m fine. The Doctor and Yoru are back, and he’s so dirty I can’t let him to go to bed like this. Yoru fell asleep on the kitchen table.” I quickly explained to her what had happened.

“So I can tell Zia everything is all right?”

The Doctor peeked around the edge of the door. Even Luisa gasped when she saw him. “Yes.”

Luisa blushed a little when she noticed the Doctor’s nudity. She nodded and hurried down the hall. I closed and locked the door. Then I rushed past him to turn off the taps.

“Can you stay? I don’t want to fall asleep and drown in a bath tub,” he said, smiling sheepishly.

“Of course,” I said, sitting down on the stool by the washbasin.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d join me,” he said.

I sighed, torn between showing him how I felt about the letter and the obvious need for some warmth. “I’m not supposed to take hot baths. But I’ll help you with your hair,” I said.

“Oh Rose,” he said, closing the distance between us to hug me. I wrapped my arms around him carefully, trying to shut out his ripe smell. The beginnings of his beard were scratchy against my temple. “I didn’t even ask if you’re all right,” he whispered.

“I am. Now let’s get you into the tub.”

He settled in the hot water with a groan and it took him a while to get comfortable. I helped him with his hair, but otherwise I just sat there. His silence unsettled me a bit because my own thoughts were reeling and I didn’t know where to begin. I preferred it when he talked a mile a minute, but that part of him had died when he’d nearly lost the TARDIS and me. He couldn’t hide his feelings as easily from me any more, and I think that becoming a father had compounded this new side to him. I’m still not sure whether I like it. I certainly didn’t like it when I watched him bathe in the middle of the night. Eventually, I picked up the bar of soap and washed his back, giving him a gentle massage at the same time. His muscles were hard with tension.

“It was terrible, Rose,” he said eventually. “It went so horribly wrong.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?” I asked, running a flannel over his shoulder.

He looked at me, and I paused a moment when I saw the profound sadness in his eyes. “I’d rather wait.” He turned awkwardly in the tub, too clumsy with fatigue not to slip on the wet enamel. He took my hand. “I will tell you, Rose, just not now. I promise.”

I nodded. He lay back in the tub again. “Just a little while longer, yeah? The water’s so relaxing.”

When he began to nod off I roused him gently and bundled him into bed. I didn’t drain the tub because I didn’t want to wake the others again. I’d do that first thing in the morning.

“Iyo,” the Doctor said, sitting on the edge of the bed; he had trouble keeping his eyes open.

“I’m here,” I reassured him, crawling up to him from behind on my knees. I took him by his shoulders. “Come on, love, lie down.”

He eased his aching body onto the bed. “I’m so sorry,” he slurred. I knew he meant it, but it was important to him that he apologize again, so I kissed his forehead to let him know that I understood.

“I know.” It was true. He couldn’t help himself, it’s who he is, and I loved him for it most of the time. It didn’t meant that I wasn’t scared senseless, and furious with him for leaving me time and again.

“I really am,” he insisted, looking at me with his huge, soulful eyes.

“It’s all right, Doctor. You need to sleep,” I soothed him. I felt more than a bit tired too, but I wouldn’t let on. There was no need to cause him any concern or make him feel guilty. I stretched out beside him and caressed his face, making sure not to touch his cuts.

“I love you. So much,” he said, taking my hand. He flicked his tongue over the inside of my wrist. “You’re all right. You’re both all right,” he sighed in relief.

“Yes, we are,” I smiled. Then I kissed him. “Go to sleep now, iyo.”

“Don’t leave me,” he murmured.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He curled up on his side to make himself as comfortable as possible, draping his arm over my waist. I slipped my fingers into his hand where it rested on the pillow between us. “Goia dun, ngudia sam.”

I’m not sure he heard me; he’d already fallen asleep. I slipped away from him to extinguish the lights and take off my robe, then I draped his arm over my waist again; its weight felt reassuring. Although I’d been falling asleep on my feet too I couldn’t seem to drift off.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was terrified of losing him. It was part of why I had broken down when I’d found his letter. The thought of him dying or regenerating was unbearable. He’d live on, but his personality would change ever so subtly, and although I’d survived one of his regenerations I wasn’t sure I’d be strong enough to go through another one with him. I’d probably manage somehow in the end, but a part of me would go with this Doctor when he erupted in a shower of golden sparks.

I must have fallen asleep eventually. When I woke because I needed to pee I was alone the bed. Of course. I padded to the bathroom; I moved carefully in the dark, trying to avoid running into the furniture because I didn’t want to turn the light on for fear of not being able to get back to sleep. After I’d finished and washed my hands I was shocked by the Rose looking back at me from the mirror. There was a hardness about her that scared me. She reminded me of the Bad Wolf and I recoiled. I didn’t want to be like her, not with a baby growing so close to the icy space around my heart she’d created. The one thing I remember about being Bad Wolf is how cold I was, in every regard: cold enough to kill. Cold enough that the Doctor’s lips were warm against mine.

I straightened the sheets to slip back between them for the last hour or so I had before I had to get up. As I plumped up the Doctor’s pillow I noticed the index card he’d placed into the hollow where he’d rested his head.

Gone to check on Yoru and to meet some people. I’ll be back for breakfast.

Love,

The Doctor

I sighed in relief, but as soon as I did, nasty questions popped up in my head. What if he wasn’t there? What if something had happened to him on his way back?

-:-

“Are you all right?” I asked, stepping onto the patio with a rapidly beating heart.

The Doctor rose from his seat at the table beneath the pergola. He looked better but not really well-rested, and he had shaved, but he wore the cuts and bruises like medals of honour. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. I bit the inside of my cheek. He looked gorgeous in a strange kind of way, a way that made me want to forgive him and just wrap my arms around him and never ever let go.

“I couldn’t sleep. I helped Yoru to his bed and then I went for a walk,” he said. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t want to wake you. You did find my note, though, didn’t you?” He gestured at the empty space next to him on the bench.

“Buon giorno, Rosa,” Zia said, concern infusing her otherwise bright tone.

“Buon giorno, Zia,” I said, stooping to kiss her cheek before taking the Doctor’s hand as he helped me to sit on the bench.

The Doctor pushed a little black notebook towards me. “This is for you,” he said.

“What is it?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of milk. It wasn’t the genuine article, but my ration book entitled me to powdered milk. I hated the taste but it contained some important nutrients; I tried to think of something else as the watery drink swept over my tongue. A slice of bread with jam afterwards usually helped.

“It’s a diary. I’ve been keeping it for you. I know you’re furious with me. And terrified of losing me,” he said, stopping himself short of adding more. We weren’t alone, and there was only so much we could share in polite company.

“A diary isn’t going to keep you safe,” I said flatly.

He looked at me, and his eyes were so wide and dark and full I knew I had hurt him. Again, I bit the inside of my cheek and I felt the soft flesh there turn raw. What had gotten into me? Here he gave me a piece offering, and I went and dismissed it? “I’m sorry, Doctor. Thank you.”

“I’d like to have it back when I… well…”

I nodded, covering the notebook with my left hand. I didn’t want to think of him leaving again, but I was glad that keeping the journal comforted him when he was on a mission. “I’ll read it as soon as possible.”

I told the Doctor about my progress with the reorganisation of the library and the occasional trips I took to San Girolamo on the bike. “Signor Albertin is trying to get the supplies I need to repair some of the books. I’d wanted to go to town this afternoon to see if they’ve arrived,” I said.

The Doctor stared at the crumbs on his plate. “I’d love to go with you,” he said. He wanted to spend as much time with me as possible.

“I’m sure the supplies can wait for a more convenient time,” Zia said, smiling. “The books have survived until now, they will survive for a while longer.”

“You haven’t eaten anything, my love,” the Doctor said, looking pointedly at the slice of bread I’d picked from the breadbasket. It lay, untouched, on my plate.

“I’m not feeling too well,” I said, returning the slice. It wasn’t exactly good manners, but in times when food was short there was no point in wasting it.

“Are you all right, Rose?” the Doctor asked, alarmed. His eyes dropped to my stomach, clearly rounded now beneath my blouse.

“Yes. I’m just… I just need a few minutes to myself. If you’ll excuse me,” I said. He gave me a hand as I climbed over the bench again, a worried look on his little-lost-boy face. I felt a bit dizzy and I knew I should eat something to settle my stomach, but the idea of the Doctor leaving again shook me to the core. He had been lucky this time. I couldn’t bear watching him regenerate again, or, worse, being unable to do so because the injury was too severe.

I reached for the diary. I wanted to be by myself but I also wanted part of him close to me.

“Luisa knows where you can find me,” I said, hurrying away to the slightly overgrown bit of the garden where the morning sun shone on my hammock. I felt a bit warmer there as I lowered myself into it. The tears I had feared would come stayed at bay, and the feeling of dizziness passed. I started to shake instead, and for a while I just sat, running my fingers along the elastic that kept the journal closed. I knew he had to leave again, but I was so terrified of him not returning.

“Rose?” Luisa’s voice roused me. When I looked up the Doctor was standing slightly behind her. He held a plate with several slices of toasted bread and jam; my breakfast.

I nodded and smiled at Luisa in thanks, and she left.

“Are you feeling better?” the Doctor asked, lowering himself carefully into the hammock next to me.

Tears finally spilt down my cheeks as I shook my head, and before I knew it the Doctor and I were in each other’s arms, notebook and breakfast forgotten, and we held each other quietly. His heartsbeat was soothing, and he murmured to me in Gallifreyan until eventually he began to hum his mother’s lullaby.

At one point we lay down in the hammock, the strings groaning under our combined weight, but we were together. The gentle to and fro as he kept the hammock rocking with one of his legs on the ground and his fingers on my skin made me doze off, the lullaby growing fainter through the layers of sleep.


	16. Fifteen

Fifteen

“Rose?”

I opened my eyes. The Doctor had sung me to sleep and when I woke I found that he’d dozed off himself. I brushed my fingertips ever so lightly over his temple to check how deeply asleep he was. Apparently, he was catching up on the sleep he’d missed out on that morning.

Giorgia was standing in the shade of my holly oaks. She looked a bit upset.

“Giorgia, what is it?” I whispered. The way the Doctor and I had curled up around each other it was hard to tell where he ended and I began. Or which of my limbs had gone numb because from being trapped beneath our bodies for too long. But if I moved now I knew he’d wake, and I didn’t want that. It was time for me to be a bit selfish. The thought of the Doctor leaving again so soon was unbearable.

“Are you all right? Zia sent me,” she said.

I took a deep breath as relief swept through me. “Yes, I am. Thank you. What about Roberto?”

“I won’t let him out of bed for at least three days,” Giorgia said softly. “Thanks for taking care of him.”

“You’d have done the same for Giovanni,” I replied. I trusted her.

She nodded.

“Giorgia? If something were to happen to him… don’t give him aspirin. He’s allergic to it,” I said.

“Oh, cara,” Giorgia said. “If something happens… Never mind.” She stopped herself for my sake. “I’ll tell the world the two of you are not to be disturbed until he feels better.”

“Thank you,” I said. She’d probably done the same for Yoru, and I was very grateful to her for it . Also, since she was a nurse in the resistance proper, not just some messenger girl like me, her word would probably carry more weight to the ring leaders than that of the pregnant wife of one of their fighters. Well, not even that. As far as the world was concerned, the Doctor and I were just lovers, and I was cheating on my husband.

“Would you pick the notebook up for me, please?” I asked. I had dropped it into the grass at one point, and I wanted to read the Doctor’s journal while he was asleep.

Giorgia picked it up with a smile. “You’re sweet, the two of you.”

I flushed.

“This really helps him when we’re out on a mission,” she said, giving me the notebook.

“Oh, well.” I didn’t know what to say. Of course I knew he missed me, but hearing it from someone else because they picked up on it was something else. “Thanks.”

She smiled at me and left. Somehow, I managed to open the book and flick through the pages with just one hand — the other one was trapped between our bodies. There was some text, but what captivated me more were the pencil sketches in it. Essentially, the notebook was a picture book. I smiled. It was so very Doctor. He could talk a mile a minute, but when it came down to committing his thoughts to paper he fell back on pictures rather than words. I hadn’t expected that because until then I’d had no idea at how skilled an artist he was. I wasn’t really surprised, though. The Doctor is a Renaissance man, after all, a man of many talents.

The images varied from quick sketches to detailed studies. They included landscapes and people — Yoru and Giorgia featured most prominently — and me. I’d never been aware of him sketching me, so he must have done it from memory.

I sat up a little, freeing my numb hand. The Doctor stirred but moulded himself to me, draping his arm around my stomach and holding me close, his head resting just above my breast. I inhaled the warm scent of his hair and dropped a kiss into it, then I began to go through the sketchbook systematically. He had captured the landscapes they had travelled through, towns perched atop vineyard-draped hills, lines of cypress trees biting into the sky like blackened teeth. There was the bridge they had blown up, an ancient construction by the looks of it. It was such a shame that it was gone now.

There were Yoru and Giorgia, apart and together, in innocent and more intimate scenes, and men and women I didn’t recognise.

But most of all, I studied the sketches he’d made of me, of my swelling stomach. He had committed my bump to memory to draw it later so he could remind himself of what I looked like, of who was waiting for him — not only I, but also our unborn child. The baby was very real to me, of course, although I couldn’t feel him move yet. It was too early for that. But the Doctor had only ever seen a blurry ultrasound image, and our baby was merely an idea to him, an idea he was reminded of when he returned from one of his missions. Sketching me was his way of remembering.

It was fascinating to see the changes in my body as my stomach grew, and I coloured at some of the postures he had chosen to draw me in. In most of the sketches I lay naked, smiling at him or asleep, and he had captured my increasingly rounding curves. Some of the sketches, when there was a sheet or his open shirt to cover up part of my body, were very erotic, and I felt a pleasant frisson of excitement course through me and pool between my legs.

“I’m missing so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with sleep. “I need these to remind myself, to keep myself in check.”

“I had no idea you were so good at sketching,” I said. “They’re beautiful.”

He gave me a half-smile. “Let me look at you,” he said, slipping his hand beneath my blouse and cami. His hand was pleasantly malialion on my skin, and I noticed for the first time that he couldn’t cover the bump with it any more. “He’s grown a lot.”

“I suppose so,” I said. My new clothes were becoming snug and I’d need to let them out soon. I’d gotten a larger bra the last time I was in town, and I’d been very lucky that they’d had one at all. It was ill-fitting, but it was better than nothing. Maybe the TARDIS could provide me with a better fitting one, but she was hidden away and I had no access to her.

I covered his hand with mine through the blouse. “I’d like to get things ready for him. Pick out clothes and a bed and toys. And I’ve been thinking of names.”

I’d expected him to start a lecture on human nest-building habits, but he didn’t.

“Tell me,” he said, brushing his thumb over my stomach.

“Well, there’s only one. I’ve always been fond of Jonah,” I said. “I don’t know why. I just like it.”

He smiled. “I like it. Jonah Tyler.”

“You don’t… What would you like to call him?” I asked, surprised that he seemed to accept my only suggestion so readily.

“We can’t call him John,” he said. “I’d need to come up with a new alias, and John Smith is just too perfect.”

I swatted him playfully.

“Oi! What was that for?”

“Seriously, though, Doctor.”

“I am serious. I like Jonah.” He enunciated the name carefully. “It reminds me of the cheeky little birds from home.”

“What?”

He sighed. “They were called e’dshona. They are like Earth’s sparrows. Were like Earth’s sparrows. Their song was better, though.”

“Don’t you have a name you’d like to give him?” I asked.

He shifted and kissed my hairline. “No, I’m happy with Jonah,” he whispered, and I wondered if I’d imagined the slightly wistful note that accompanied his answer.

“He’ll be a Bird Boy,” I said, thinking of the legendary Bird People of Ruul. “He’ll have links to all three planets. Earth, Gallifrey and Ruul.”

“That he will,” the Doctor smiled. “May I look at you?”

“Are you going to sketch me?” I asked, snapping the book shut. I hadn’t read a single word.

“Yes, if that’s all right. Unless you’d rather…”

“… make love?” I asked.

He just looked at me.

“I was hoping to, but I…”

He took my wrist and kissed it, flicking his tongue over the pale skin there to taste me. “You’re all right, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said. “I just want to be with you as much as possible. In any way you’d like, iyo.”

“I’d like to watch you,” I said. “Draw me.”

He kissed me and struggled out of the hammock to sit and sketch me from the chair. I rolled to lie on my side and I watched him as he produced a pencil and his glasses from his pocket, found an empty page in his book and began to draw.

The peacefulness and concentration with which he worked were at odds with the bruises and cuts on his face and knuckles. I wondered briefly if he was glad I hadn’t asked him to make love. He was probably a bit more sore than he’d let on. Oh Doctor. His glasses were another reminder of the fact that he preferred fighting with words rather than his hands.

My stomach growled, cutting into the scratch of his pencil on paper and the song of the crickets. He looked up and laughed. “Would you like your breakfast after all?” he asked, closing his book around his pencil and sliding his glasses off his nose.

“Yes, please,” I said, sitting up and turning so my feet were on the ground. The hammock was wide enough to allow me to sit comfortably. The Doctor picked up the plate from the table and gave it to me.

I ate the jam sandwiches with gusto. “When did you start keeping the journal?” I asked in between bites.

“When Yoru started to write letters to Fenia. Everyone writes or draws or carves something when we’re out there. There’s only so much you can talk about when you’re hiding. It’s very lonely,” he said.

“You don’t talk a mile a minute any more,” I said. “You haven’t ever since we crash landed on Ruul.” There, I’d said it. It had not really bothered me at first, because I’d thought he was mourning the TARDIS, but he’d never gone back to the habit afterwards.

“Well,” he drawled. “Don’t you like it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s you, Rose. Since we’ve been lovers, since we crash landed, I haven’t felt the need to hide behind lectures, just so I don’t think too much and accidentally tell you how much I love you, how much I’ve wanted you.” He stopped himself and pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Like just now?” I smiled.

“Like just now,” he said, smiling as well.

“What were you so afraid of?” I wondered. Since the TARDIS’ recovery we’d been travelling through Space and Time as lovers, and never once had our relationship come between a conflict and the Doctor’s need to help. Until now.

“Of this,” he said. “Of knowing that you’re waiting for me. That I want to get back to you as soon as possible. That I need you to be safe. And our child…”

I passed him the empty plate.

“I’m very happy. About being married to you. It has reminded me of… well…”

“Yeah,” I said. Of the important things in life. But it had also reminded him of the fact that even a Time Lord wasn’t as omnipotent as he fancied himself. He and I were like a girl and her kite. I delighted in seeing him fly, but he also needed to be brought back to the ground when the wind got too strong. I just hoped the line would never break.

“I’m very happy about Jonah, too, our Little Bird,” he said.

I stood and unbuttoned my blouse and slid it off my arms. Then I opened the fastenings of my skirt and let it rustle to the ground. I was only in my knickers and cami — it was too hot and I was too 21st century to bother with all the sartorial conventions of the past.

The Doctor reached out for me and I took his hand and stepped towards him. He pushed up my camisole and ran his hands over my bump. He needed to commit my new shape to memory with his hands; he wasn’t going to sketch me any more for as long as he was here. He needed something to occupy the long hours of his vigil when he went back out on a mission.

He dropped a kiss onto my stomach and drew me close, resting his head just below my breasts. I caressed his hair and shoulder as he held me. “I’m scared of being a father again,” he said eventually.

I knew that, of course.

“I want to be a good father, but right now I’m feeling like the worst father in the world and our little one hasn’t even been born yet.”

I closed my eyes and dropped a kiss onto his hair.

“You’ll have to go away again,” I said.

“Yes.”

“When will it stop, though, Doctor?” I asked. “I don’t want the baby to be born here. I’d really like the comfort of Dr Harris. Or that of a Ruulim midwife, and Fenia there to support us.” I hadn’t really made my mind up yet where I wanted to be when it was time. The cool professionalism and sophistication of early 21st century London were enticing, but Ruulim midwives were spectacularly good, and I wanted to give birth in a place where I felt absolutely safe. Like Sho. But the thing was that I was not a Ruulim woman, and while the Ruulim had a lot in common with humans, I wasn’t sure if that applied to obstetrics as well.

“There’s one more thing we need to do, Rose. After that we’ll go home, I promise.”

“Home?”

“London, Lufana, the TARDIS. Anywhere you want, my love,” he said, looking up at me.

“It’s always one last mission, isn’t it?”

He sighed.

“It’s in the area. Come to San Girolamo and we’ll meet in the hotel every chance we get. I’ll book the room for the rest of our stay so we’ll always have a place to hide,” he said.

“What about here? Can’t we hide here?” I loved the secluded, overgrown bit of the garden we were hiding away in at the moment.

“Too dangerous,” he said.

“Just promise me you’ll be safe, yeah?” I asked. It was unfair to ask him that and I didn’t expect him to reply. So I let him pull me onto his lap and I framed his face with my hands as he kissed me deeply.


	17. Sixteen

Sixteen

From then on it was a stolen moment here or the rare night snatched there. I’d receive a message and find an excuse for a trip to town. Of course I couldn’t enter La Cisterna through the main entrance, not unless Yoru met me in the café outside, in plain sight of everyone. Those occasions were few and far between, and whenever we met I thought how wrong it was to be kissing him hello; it should be the Doctor. Yoru was always reticent because he felt the same way. Most of the time, however, I was able to sneak into the hotel either via Signor Albertin’s or via a back door in the wall separating the hotel’s private garden from the public garden just behind it.

I had started to repair some of Signor Albertin’s books, which offered a great excuse to go to town frequently and empty the post box. I told all and sundry how much I loved the public garden, so whenever the Doctor sent word that he’d be in town for a few hours — a whole night was pure luxury — I’d be there. He’d bathe and shave and we made a ritual of me washing his hair for him. I never joined him in the tub because of the baby. Afterwards, he’d show me his journal and commit my changing body to memory. Then we’d make love, and the further my pregnancy progressed the more we’d resort to me riding him or he taking me from behind.

“When, Doctor?” I’d ask him, and his answer would always be, “Soon, ngudia sam.”

When I wasn’t busy working for the resistance or repairing and rearranging Zia’s books, Zia taught me the high art of knitting. The need to make something for Jonah was overwhelming, and I’d fallen in love with the pattern of a blanket I’d seen in one of Giorgia’s magazines. It turned out that Zia had plenty of wool from before the war, and after I’d found what I’d been looking for I asked her to teach me how to knit. I was surprised by how calming it was; if I’d been told a few months ago that I’d knit a baby blanket, I’d have scoffed at the idea. Now, however, it gave me something to do for our baby, rather than the resistance.

“When did you know you were pregnant?” Giorgia asked me one day. We were working on the last book that needed repairing. I’d dawdled and found excuses to draw out finishing it because I was loathe to lose this distraction. I had learned a lot about making and repairing books, and I found it a very gratifying activity that required my full attention. It was also something that I could do without having to worry about the baby.

I looked up from where I’d been running the bone folder over the paper. For a moment I didn’t know what to say. When had I known it? Or when had I first suspected? I asked her.

“Wondering, more like,” Giorgia said.

Then it clicked. “How long since your last period?” I asked.

“Too long.”

“Haven’t you used… protection?” I asked. Well, what protection there was, which I suppose made condoms a luxury, even for a nurse, and had her revert to whatever techniques she’d been taught. “Oh Giorgia.”

She broke into tears then. Strong, independent Giorgia burst into tears. I dropped the bone folder and moved to wrap my arms around her. “How regular are you?” I asked as she calmed down a little.

“Like clockwork,” she sniffled.

I hated the idea but I couldn’t fail her. She needed to know. “Ask Gio. He’ll be able to tell you for sure.”

“How?”

“He just… Let him explain. He knew I was pregnant before I told him, but I suppose we knew at around the same time,” I explained. I wanted to leave it up to the Doctor how much to tell her. With the possibility of a baby on the way we’d need to tell her who we were. Yoru loved her deeply and he’d never abandon her, not even if she weren’t having his baby.

I was amazed. So Ruulim and Humans appeared to be compatible. Hopefully, the Doctor would be able to tell if Giorgia would be able to carry the baby to term, or if there would be any complications. Ruulim pregnancies were shorter than Human ones.

“Oh Rosa, what am I to do?” she wondered.

“Just wait. Maybe you’re really just late. It has been stressful and you haven’t had enough to eat out there. That tends to delay things a bit,” I reassured her. Although I loved the idea of Yoru having a family of his own I wondered if starting one with a girl from Earth was a good idea. I had a feeling he’d never leave Ruul to live here. And there was no way of telling if Giorgia would be ready to leave her home. What was it with these wonderful alien men stealing our hearts?

“When will he be back?” Giorgia asked.

“I have no idea. Gio didn’t know when we last met,” I said.

“It’s been three days. It’s starting to feel like forever,” she sighed. She had picked up the bone folder to play with it. She returned it to me. “Can you… not mention this to anyone just yet? I might not be pregnant after all.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Rosa. I’m so glad we’ve become friends,” she said, kissed my cheek and we continued to work in silence.

-:-

“I just want to forget,” the Doctor said. He was in the tub with his back to me. He had bent forward a little and I was perched on the edge of the tub behind him to wash his hair. I was rinsing the suds out of it as best possible with the pitcher from the washstand in our room. By now, I’d mastered the art of washing Time Lord hair without a shower head, and I wondered if I’d ever want to go back to using one once this was over.

The Doctor’s fingers were curled around the edges of the tub. His skin had tanned so much that only the darkest of his freckles were still visible. They were dusted lightly over his shoulders. The sun had brought the freckles in his face out nicely, though.

I didn’t say anything. I’d long since learned that he’d open up to me when he was ready. Still, I was brokenhearted for him. Sometimes I hated it that he tried to protect me. I wanted to understand him, I didn’t want to hurt him accidentally by saying or doing the wrong thing.

I ran my fingers through his hair to relax him. His injuries had healed nicely, just like Yoru’s had. Both men’s muscles had hardened from all the exercise and hard work, but so had something in their eyes. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it seemed as though parts of them had gone missing, no matter what Giorgia and I did to reassure and comfort them.

I’d long since given up telling him to get the psychic paper and just leave. But maybe that was what he was waiting for.

“I’ve started making a blanket for Jonah. And you know what? I quite like the Italian version of the name. It’s actually the same, but it’s spelled differently, and I’ve been wondering whether we could use the Italian spelling,” I said. “It’s G-I-O-N-A.”

“I hate carrying a gun,” the Doctor blurted.

“What?” I dropped my hands from his hair to his shoulders. The muscles there were unbelievably tense; there wasn’t a soft spot to be found. I was glad I still had the small bottle of olive oil Signor Albertin had given me in my handbag. I’d meant to use it for my stomach, but the Doctor would benefit from it a lot more.

“I’m carrying a gun. It upsets me, having this big, heavy lump of lethal metal in my pocket or at the small of my back.”

“Have you used it?” I started to draw soothing circles on his damp skin. Without the oil, I was afraid of hurting him. I loved the feel of his skin. It was pleasant to touch thanks to its malialioness, a wonderful contrast to my own damp, overheated skin.

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes.

“I don’t recognise myself,” he continued. “We need to leave. Soon. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

“Oh Doctor,” I said. He leaned back and turned slightly towards me. His eyes were full of darkness and self-loathing. He was so much like my first Doctor then that I was afraid, for a split second, that I’d lost the Doctor who had become my beloved, the father of my child. But I also knew that that man was part of my husband, and that without that part he wouldn’t be the same.

“Tell me to stop, Rose. Please.”

“I can’t,” I said, and he knew it. It was unfair of him to ask. I filled the pitcher and poured its contents over his head one last time.

“Can you make me forget? At least for the night?” he asked after he’d gasped and spluttered and wiped the excess water off his face.

“That I can, ngudia sam.”

In our room I made him sit at the foot of the bed, propped against the cold iron as I lay back on the pillows. I started to run my hands over my bump. Jonah had grown considerably, and sometimes I wondered if Dr Harris hadn’t miscalculated or if he was growing so fast because he was half Gallifreyan. The Doctor could only guess too because although his mother had been human he’d never heard of a Gallifreyan and a Human having children. He had never discussed it with his parents, and then it had been too late. We had wondered, many times, why our baby seemed to be Human.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” the Doctor said. He made to crawl towards me. “So beautiful.”

“No.” My voice was firm and he stopped, startled. “You want me to help you forget.”

“But when I’m with you I — ”

“Doctor,” I growled angrily.

He nicked one of the pillows and flopped back against it, wincing a little as a knobbly part of the foot board dug into his ribs.

“When you’re not with me,” I said, “I still have a piece of you here.”

His eyes went wide.

“I don’t keep a journal, Doctor,” I said. “Not any more.” I slid my hands between my legs and opened them a bit. It was enough to have enough room for my hands. I didn’t believe in spreading my legs as wide as possible when I was alone. But I did draw up my knees.

“Rose.”

“I remember what it’s like when you’re with me,” I said, trailing my fingers along the insides of my legs, where my flesh darkened and softened as it plumped up to meet, and cover up, my sex. “I imagine it’s your fingers. But they’re so much cleverer than mine. And longer. I cannot believe the place you can reach with them, particularly when you curl them up against me. Deep inside me.”

I’d been running my fingers along the length of my slit and pushed them inside with one swift stroke.

The Doctor gasped and his cock twitched beneath his towel.

“Come on,” I said, “touch yourself. I want to see you.”

“Rose,” he said, his tone incredulous. We had done this before, but watching each other masturbate was something we’d only done it that once. Now was the right time to repeat the experience. He did want to forget, and I was going to tease him and keep him on edge, close to the edge but I would pull him back just before he fell.

He loosened the towel and I could see how hard he’d already become.

“Come on, touch yourself.”

His gaze darkened and and he never averted his eyes from mine as he began to run his hands down his stomach and to his cock to wrap his right fist around it and to cup his balls with the other.

“I want you to lose yourself in your fantasy, Doctor,” I said. “Close your eyes.”

“But then I won’t be able to watch you.”

“You’ll see me, Doctor,” I promised. “Now close your eyes.”

His eyes fluttered shut and he stretched languidly, making himself comfortable. His foot came to rest between my thighs as he spread his legs a little to give himself better access.

“Oh Rose,” he whispered.

I knew he expected us to join in imiyatun, but I didn’t want to, not tonight.

“Tell me,” I said.

“You’re so beautiful, and I… I love you so much, Rose. You have no idea,” he murmured. He had established a rhythm quickly, one that told me he knew exactly how to pleasure himself. “It’s so incredible when you’re with me…”

I stopped touching myself then. I just couldn’t relax when he opened up to me like this.

“You’re so warm and full of life. So loving, Rose, and when I… when I push into you, every time, it’s like… it’s right… Oh!” He moaned loudly.

I sat up and ran my fingertips along the inside of his ankle. It was the softest of touches, but it made his toes curl and he almost sobbed at the sensation. So much for my plan to drive him to the brink and only letting him fall when I was ready to. He was losing himself already. I shifted, kneeling between his legs to reach for his other ankle too. I feathered my fingers over his skin, playing a little with the hair on his legs. I leaned forward to kiss the insides of his knees.

“Rose, kinam’sati, savira’ra… rovalionn ti…”

“In a while, yamu’sati,” I replied.

“Oh Rose, you’re so… so wonderful. Around me… all around me, so hot and… you’re everywhere, Rose. I end with you… inside you. I want to…” He cried out as I ran my fingertips up the insides of his thighs, barely touching him. He bucked, tensed, and erupted, covering the back of my hand, but mostly, he spilt himself all over his taut stomach. I reached for him and wove my fingers through his to let him know I was still with him.

I moved from between his legs to sit beside him, and as soon as he felt the mattress dip beside him, he curled into me. I held him as he recovered from his orgasm. It had been beautiful to watch. I was surprised to find it more beautiful than arousing. I’d seduced him and that should turn me on, but it did so only gently. I couldn’t help feeling a bit powerful for doing this to him, just the fantasy of me, but the tender love I had for him right at this moment was more powerful. He’d wanted to escape, and that he had. I didn’t need to come that night. I just wanted him to feel safe and loved.

I held him until he dozed off. He had been pushing his cycle again. I nudged him gently to stretch out on the bed, and he fell asleep curled up against me, his stomach sticky against the small of my back, his fingers tightly woven, again, through my fingers.

This time, it was I who had to leave in the grey early-morning light. It was the changing of the guard, the perfect opportunity to flit through the deep shadows and back to the estate. I ran into Giorgia in the public garden, quite literally. I hadn’t been aware she’d spent the night at the hotel as well. She was emptying the contents of her stomach into the shrubbery, and I held her hair back. She wiped her mouth as she straightened and gave me a weak smile.

“Have you told Y— Roberto?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t. He feels bad enough already as it is, for leaving me behind. And you. He loves you, Rosa.”

“Not the way he loves you, Giorgia. He loves you more,” I said. It hurt that he had been unable to let go of me. I’d have to talk to him as soon as possible to tell him that Giorgia needed him, that he must let go of me for her sake.

“Are you going to tell him, though? The mission will be over soon, th… Gio told me,” I said. I had to be careful. I’d nearly slipped and said Yoru earlier. And now this…

“We’d better hurry, Rosa,” Giorgia said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.


	18. Seventeen

Seventeen

Day 53

Fenia colian keri,

I am horrified at the man I have become, and what I have done to Rose and Giorgia in the process. The other resistance fighters have always mistrusted me, particularly after the incident at the bridge, but now they think I am a traitor. The Doctor had to wash his hands of me so he could stay with them — he really needs to get his psychic paper back. But I’m beginning to wonder if he’s paying too high a price.

I don’t blame him. He has to help, and he is the most loyal and kindest man we’ve ever met. You know that, keri, but I think he needs Rose to tell him to stop and to go home. So far we’ve been really lucky, but with the things developing as they are I don’t want to rely on our good fortune much longer.

Rose says she can’t tell him to stop, but I think she has to. If she doesn’t, no one else will. The Doctor adores her; he’d do anything for her and their baby. I don’t understand his recklessness, nor do I understand Rose for allowing him to stay. If I were an expectant father I’d try everything to get the mother as far away from harm as possible.

But even if she did, I fear it’s too late now.

The Germans recognised me, and since the TARDIS makes me sound like a native, I have to stay with them now. I had no choice. If I hadn’t gone with them I’d have endangered the whole cell. I am at La Cisterna now with Rose by my side as my wife. I don’t know who came up with that idea; I think it must have been Zia. Anyway, instead of sharing a room with Giorgia I’m now in the very embarrassing situation of having to share with Rose. I share my bed with her, and when Giorgia comes it’s always awkward and Rose leaves, never short of an excuse to go.

I don’t know anything about the Germans, so for fear of exposing myself, Rose has suggested that I pretend to come down with an Earth illness called pneumonia; it’s an inflammation of the lungs that weakens the patient for several weeks. It’s certainly something that has kept me out of trouble so far. None of the Germans has bothered me since I was officially welcomed. As far as they are concerned I am Hauptmann Robert Bach. I have changed my name yet again; Bach is the German word for pagao. It’s unpronounceable, so don’t even try.

Rose suffers more than I do. Zia has had to kick her out to keep up appearances, and the way the townspeople have treated her is appalling. Thankfully, somehow, some of them are still nice to her, like for example Dottore Ruggiero. I have requested his services, rather than the German army one — I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if that man found out I’m an alien. Dottore Ruggiero knows I’m not ill, but he’s taking care of Rose. She’s sixteen weeks pregnant now, and she has a nice bump. She glows and she’s more beautiful than ever, keri, and I’m ashamed to say that I feel drawn to her. I do love Giorgia, I really do, and I don’t want to think about what will happen when it’s time to leave. I think I’ll have to, though, and soon. I couldn’t possibly stay here with her on Earth. I’m terrified of asking her, of telling her who we really are. I’m really betraying her.

Well, I will use the time I’m cooped up in this hotel room to try and find out who betrayed us to the Germans. They knew about the bridge, and they knew about that transport. I’m sure that somewhere along the line of communication there’s someone who’s ratted us out to the Germans. And I’m going to find him and prove to the cell that I am not a traitor.

Rose is lying curled up on the bed. She misses you. She and Giorgia are getting on well now, but she really needs you, colian keri. She’s making a blanket for the baby. She has wool, long, fluffy thread made from an animal’s fur, that she twists into little knots with a pair of needles that are as long as her lower arm. It’s fascinating to watch and strangely soothing to listen to. The needles click ever so softly when she’s working. She can’t even repair Signor Albertin’s books any more, now that she’s done with Zia’s library. Whenever she goes out by herself, people literally hiss and spit at her. To them, she’s a German whore, and the fact that she’s pregnant makes life even more difficult for her.

Such is my life these days, keri.

M'aruu, keri, and stay safe.

-:-

I missed my hammock. There wasn’t one in the private garden of La Cisterna, and I had to make do with a deckchair. I had dragged one into a secluded spot rich with natural shade, and I spent a lot of time there, reading and knitting and napping, particularly when Giorgia came to look after Yoru. The town doctor, Dottore Ruggiero, had arranged for her to visit him every other day. He’s on our side, and he’s taking care of me as well. That day I took him up on his offer of a full exam. I had missed several appointments with Dr Harris, and I needed his reassurance. For some reason, the Doctor licking the inside of my wrist wasn’t enough. Since our boy was apparently human, there was no harm in submitting to the exam.

“You’re missing his father, though,” Dottore Ruggiero said, packing up his things while I was getting dressed behind the screen.

I stiffened at first. “Yes.” It was good to admit it to someone other than Yoru and Giorgia. “It’s complicated.”

“Have you thought of names yet?” he asked. I stepped back into the room, smoothing my blouse over my stomach. It had become a habit that soothed the baby as well as me — well, me probably more so.

“Yes, but I don’t want to discuss it. I’m a bit superstitious in that regard,” I said.

“Don’t let Father Carmello hear that,” he said, winking.

“I won’t,” I smiled.

“I’d pass on a message, but I’m afraid La Lupa has had to go into hiding,” he said, snapping his bag shut. I had heard of La Lupa. She was one of the messenger girls, and she’d had to go into hiding along with Yoru and a few others. Yoru’s discovery had caused quite a stir, and again I had failed to ask the Doctor to leave. The next time I saw him, I’d put my foot down. We’d been here for more than seven weeks.

“Thank you. I wouldn’t want to trouble her with my I miss you messages. There are more important notes to be passed on,” I said.

“Are there, though?” Dottore Ruggiero asked thoughtfully. “Take care of yourself, cara.”

Yoru made a show of wheezing as I took him back to our room. He had given me some privacy by lying down on the deck chair for a while, doctor’s orders, to further his health. “How’s the baby?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” I said, replying in German. There were a few Germans around, and we had to keep up appearances. After I had closed the door to our room behind us, I didn’t let go of him. He’d draped his arm around my waist to show he needed support. And then I kissed him. It was a lingering meeting of our lips, and when we broke apart he stood stunned and I needed to flee the room. What had I done?

I still had my bike, and I took it and raced across the flagstones of the square, pedalling towards the estate but going past it. The exercise felt good but it didn’t undo what had happened. I had kissed Yoru. I had finally given in to my anger at myself for being so weak, for being unable to put my foot down and tell the Doctor to go home, for being so weak as to turn to Yoru for physical comfort. We had been sharing a bed for the past few nights, and once I had woken because of the weight of his arm draped over my midriff. He must have mistaken me for Giorgia. Torn between the comfort of his touch and propriety, I had eventually removed his arm and spent the rest of the night lying close to the edge of the bed for fear of rolling over and into his arms.

I didn’t trust myself any more.

The kiss had felt good while it lasted, but it was a kiss of betrayal. I had taken advantage of Yoru’s surprise, and I had allowed my loneliness to get the better of me. I was so ashamed of myself. I certainly couldn’t go back to La Cisterna now. How could I be in the same room with him?

I skidded to a halt at a fork in the dusty road and clambered off the bike, letting it drop, to sit in the shade of a holly oak. If I went to the TARDIS and asked her to open up for me, she would. I’d find peace and quiet there until things were over, until the Doctor felt he was released from this world. I didn’t understand him. After all that had happened to Yoru, how could he still be with them? They had been more than eager to let Yoru go, after all he’d done for them. I was sure they’d just leave the Doctor behind if they needed to. That cell, or their leader, thought they owed him nothing, not after what had happened to Yoru.

I didn’t understand why Yoru was still bent on finding out who betrayed them to the Germans. It was probably just so he knew. The partisans didn’t care, not even if he proved to them that he wasn’t the mole.

But who was it then, I wondered. Was it La Lupa, who had gone into hiding so conveniently? Signor Albertin was still in business, but he made it a point to show everyone how much he hates me, so it couldn’t be him.

I had been so lost in thought that I hadn’t noticed the darkening sky. Dark clouds were gathering beyond San Girolamo, and the breeze had grown stronger. It wouldn’t be long until the storm broke and I’d better be safely indoors by then. I picked up my bike and rode back to town, more slowly now, partially because I’d calmed down to a degree, but also because the road rose gently towards the estate. It was more of a workout than I’d been used to lately. It was more strenuous than holding on to the Doctor when he made love to me in a stolen moment.

I cried out and skidded to a halt when the object of my thoughts stepped from behind a ruined shed by the road and into my way.

“Doctor!” I snapped at him. He had scared me, and my indignation momentarily won out over my joy at seeing him.

“Shush, Rose,” he hissed. “Come.” He grabbed my bike and whisked it into the shrubbery that hid the shed.

I followed him, and found myself in the dappled light that filtered through the gaps in the roof beams. Where it was still intact, in the far corner, darkness reigned. “Tell me this is not your hiding spot.”

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I could make out a mattress and a blanket in the dark corner, along with a lantern and a small cooker. “Oh Doctor.”

He took my wrist and licked it, smiling in relief. “You’re all right.”

“Well, of course I am! Cooped up in that hotel as I am,” I pointed out. “This,” I gestured in the general direction of where the bike lay in the shrubbery, “is all the exercise I get these days.”

“I know you’re angry, ngudia sam,” he said helplessly. He produced the psychic paper from the pocket of his trousers.

“How long have you had it?”

“I’ll use it to get you and Yoru out of here,” he explained. “That’s my last mission.”

“And Giorgia. She’s pregnant with Yoru’s child,” I said.

“I know. She’s coming with us.”

“Does Yoru know? About the baby? He never mentioned it to me.”

The Doctor shook his head. “I told her who we are, and she believed me.”

“Did you show her? Did you take her hand, like you took mine?” I asked, jealousy bubbling up inside me. I felt so ashamed. I was only here because I’d been running from Yoru, my best friend, whom I had kissed.

“I needed her to believe me.” The Doctor drew me towards him. “Hey.”

“I’ve done something terrible.”

His eyes widened. He’d probably whisked me away to make love in here. How he knew I had taken this road I had no idea. Maybe the network still worked, maybe not all was lost because La Lupa had had to go into hiding.

“I kissed Yoru,” I blurted, and went on to tell him the whole sordid tale in one mad rush.

He was so calm it terrified me. I could deal with the Oncoming Storm. But I couldn’t deal with his serenity.

“Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?” he said softly.

“I kissed our best friend!” I cried, desperate for him to punish me in some way.

“Because I wasn’t there.”

“You’re always there, Doctor! But I felt so lonely and I wanted… I needed… I…” I stopped myself.

“I’ve had to kiss Giorgia,” he said.

“To fool the fascists?”

He nodded.

I stepped away from him. “I had no such excuse.”

“Rose, please,” he said.

“I want to leave. I want to go home.”

“I know, I’m working on it.”

“Why can’t we just step inside the TARDIS?” I asked, hugging myself. The wind had picked up, and the light in the shed had shifted and plunged it into growing gloom. “I have to go. It’ll rain soon.”

“Rose, rovalionn ti. Satu,” he said. He closed the distance between us and took me gently by the arms. “Tamonn migar ti cayio ni timyi. It’s the last time I know we’ll have for sure. We might be gone tomorrow. Please, Rose.”

I wanted to tell him to wait until tomorrow then and make love in our bed in the TARDIS, but I couldn’t. He needed me now, just like I needed him.

“Soki,” I said.

He drew me into his arms and kissed me deeply. I was still stunned by how easily he accepted that I had kissed Yoru, by his lack of jealousy, and I wondered for a moment if there had been more between him and Giorgia than a kiss. But he dipped into my mind briefly, and I let him, I let him see my memory of this kiss, my shame, and he did the same, and there were just the kisses but nothing more. I sobbed into his mouth as I understood, and he picked me up to lay me down on the lumpy old mattress.

“Let me look at you,” he said, working the buttons on my blouse open. I helped him, undoing the fastenings of my skirt. He let go of me briefly to light the lamp. The hiss of the flame consuming the petroleum was soothing as it reminded me of Sho.

“Dottore Ruggiero examined me today. We’re all right,” I said, running my hand over the taut skin of my stomach. The Doctor began to caress my bump as well, and pleasant shivers ran up and down my spine. “I’m sorry, but I needed to know. And he’s with the resistance.”

The Doctor hummed in agreement. “Tam shia ngarthu, Rose.” He took off my skirt and knickers. His fingers found their way between my folds easily, but I wasn’t as wet as I’d have liked to be. I understood his need, but I just wanted to be with him. I just wanted him to hold me.

“Let me do this for you,” he said, bending to kiss a line from my mouth over my stomach to my slit. I lay back, trying to relax. Any other time I couldn’t have had the Doctor’s mouth between my legs fast enough, but right then I knew I was just too tense.

“Relax, my love,” he whispered, caressing the insides of my thighs.

“I can’t, Doctor. Please, can’t you just hold me?” I asked.

He looked crestfallen then, but he began to caress and kiss me again in one last attempt. I pushed his hands away and sat up, closing my legs. “I’m sorry. I’d better go,” I mumbled, a lump forming in my throat. I reached for my clothes.

“I’m worried about you, my love,” the Doctor said, shifting closer to me, handing me my knickers.

“Just get us home.”

He nodded gravely and leaned in for a kiss. “Be safe, yeah?” He climbed to his feet and went to the light part of the shed. “The storm is going to break soon. I hate to let you go. We could just cuddle?”

I shook my head. “I need to get back.” I felt tears welling up. “To keep us all safe.”

“Of course,” the Doctor said. He leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, Rose.”

I smiled. “I know.” I cupped his stubbly cheek for one last kiss, then I hurried outside and took the bike which he liberated from the brambles for me.

-:-

The storm broke after I’d passed the estate. It wasn’t far now to San Girolamo, but by the time I steered the bike over the flagstones in the main piazza, I was soaked to the skin and the stones were slippery from the dampened dust. A thunderclap startled me and my attention slipped for a split second. So did the front wheel, and before I knew it, I hit the ground in a painful thud that sent shock waves up my right knee and wrist. I cried out more in shock and anger than in pain.

I struggled a bit to get up again. The piazza was mostly empty. The people who had seen my accident looked the other way. I cursed them, raging at them for their ignorance under my breath. If only they knew.

Suddenly, the rain stopped.

Startled, I looked up. Father Carmello stood bent over me with a huge black umbrella. “Are you all right, Signora Pagao?”

I was surprised that he didn’t address me as Frau Bach, like so many others who deigned to address me now and then. I took his proffered hand and let him help me to my feet. “I think so, thank you, Father.”

He gave me the umbrella to hold and bent to pick up my bike. “You’d better go back to your husband, Signora. The storm will become worse.” He pushed my bike as we went towards the hotel, me holding the umbrella over both of us. My knee hurt a little but I tried not to limp. My wrist was throbbing too, but I’d moved it to check for injury, and it wasn’t broken. A cold compress would probably do.

“Thank you, Father, that was very kind,” I said when we reached the hotel. Some Germans had come outside again and were standing in the doorway for a smoke.

“Take care, Frau Bach,” Father Carmello said pointedly so the soldiers could hear us. He was one of us.

“Ist alles in Ordnung, Frau Bach? Brauchen Sie den Doktor?” one of the men asked me. Of course I needed the Doctor.

“Nein danke, es geht schon,” I replied. I let him take my bike, though, and then I hurried back to our room. When I opened the door I found Giorgia and Yoru, naked, in the bed dozing. They lay curled around each other, much like the Doctor and I would be if I’d been able to make love to him. Fresh tears stung my eyes.

“Rose?” Yoru asked drowsily. If it weren’t so embarrassing I’d have said he was adorable. I laughed a blubbery laugh laced with tears. He sat up. “Rose, what’s happened?”

I must have looked a fright, standing there drenched to the bone.

“You’re bleeding!” he cried.

I looked down my body and saw that I’d cut my right knee as I’d fallen. “It’s nothing, just a scratch.”

Moving out from underneath Giorgia, he fished for his pants and vest. He turned his back on me as he got dressed. I just stood there, watching Giorgia sleep. Her dark curls lay fanned out on the pillow and she looked even more like an elf than usual. She was so beautiful. What Yoru had ever seen in me was beyond me, particularly now that Giorgia was his lover.

Giorgia stirred but was alert at once when she followed Yoru’s gaze. She wasn’t shy as she sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. “Sit down, Rose, and let me look at that,” she said. “Roberto, get her a towel.”

Before I knew it, she had pulled my sodden clothes off me and Yoru had draped a towel around my shoulders. He had also given Giorgia his shirt. She’d slipped it on with an indignant huff and had fetched her bag to tend to the cut on my knee.

“I was so worried, Rose,” Yoru said, passing me a glass of water. I sipped it carefully, hissing as Giorgia tended to the cut.

“I went a little farther than I should have. I’m sorry,” I said.

“Did you hurt your stomach when you fell?” Giorgia asked.

Had I? I shook my head, running my hands over my bump. I was fine. “Thank you, Giorgia, for your help.”

“Rest for a while. I’ll have dinner sent up.”

“You have to go already?” Yoru asked. “In this weather?”

She nodded and stole a kiss from his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

And then I was alone with him. The storm had picked up and peals of thunder rumbled over the hills as lightning showed it the way.

“I’m sorry about the kiss,” I said.

“Me too. Now come and rest. You look a bit cold,” he said, straightening the sheets. I tried not to think about the fact that he and Giorgia had just made love in that bed. And the Doctor? Was he all right in that half-shed of his?


	19. Eighteen

Eighteen

The temperature had dropped during the thunderstorm, and when I went down to the garden after breakfast I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a long time. I had slept surprisingly well, considering the events of the previous day. I felt horrible for denying the Doctor the comfort of my body he needed so badly, but I knew he’d inadvertently have hurt me and he’d hate himself for it.

“Frau Bach?” Guido stepped forward from behind the desk in the small foyer. He was still polite to me, but he treated me with a professional coolness that chilled me, and I was glad that he usually ignored me. Of all the acts of humiliation I had to endure since Yoru had been recognised by a German soldier in the street, this was by far the worst.

“Ja?”

“We have a room for you. It’s just opposite the Hauptmann’s,” he informed me. That was another of his small acts of rebellion; they had told us that the hotel was fully booked, and he’d just shrugged in mock-helplessness when I’d argued that I couldn’t possibly share a room with my sick husband, not in my condition. I wondered what had changed his mind.

“I’d like to have that room, please,” I said. “Thank you.”

Without any further comment he gave me the key to the room. It was room 184, the Doctor and my hideaway from the world. I wondered if it was all his idea. I took the key and returned upstairs to tell Yoru and to pack. Zia had given me a cheap, battered cardboard suitcase when she’d ‘thrown’ me ‘out’, and it barely held my few belongings. She had, however, gifted me with the bookmaker’s tools I had bought from Signor Albertin, and the beautiful fountain pen I had used to write the library cards.

“I’ll miss you, Rose,” Yoru said.

“The Doctor promised to get us out of here as soon as possible,” I said. “And it’s just for the nights. I’ll keep you company when Giorgia’s not around. I’d be going mad with boredom myself.”

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

I took a deep breath. “I wish I could blame it on hormones, but I know it wasn’t about them,” I confessed.

“Actually, I meant about you finding us in bed together,” Yoru said, his eyes twinkling a little. I was very grateful to him for being so discreet about the kiss. We both knew that we had enjoyed it at the time; although it was wrong it had given us what we’d needed.

“Oh, that. You looked beautiful together,” I said.

He blushed. “You think?”

“You should ask her. To come with us. Time’s running out.”

His eyes went wide. “I can’t possibly ask her to leave her home and her family.”

I stepped up to him and cupped his freshly-shaven cheek. “Be brave, Yoru. She knows who we are.”

“What?”

“The Doctor told her. He might be surprisingly dim at times, but he knows how close you are. You’ll forever hate yourself if you don’t,” I said.

“He… I’ve been wondering how to tell her and he goes and does it for me. I think I’d have preferred to tell her myself,” Yoru said, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

I sighed. “That’s the Doctor. Sometimes he does that.”

“Making decisions for others?” He sounded almost a tad bitter. But only almost.

I nodded, sitting on the edge of the dishevelled bed beside him. “It’s hard, sometimes.”

“You’re a miracle, you are, keri,” he said, smiling softly.

“I’ve been wondering, Yoru,” I began, “would you do us the honour of being our baby’s godfather?”

He looked at me a little incredulous at first, but then he broke into his wide smile. “I’d love to. Thank you so much, Rose, for entrusting me with your child.” He drew me into his arms and I returned his embrace. We’d meant to wait to ask him this, but I thought it was the perfect moment to do so. It was customary on Ruul to ask the godparent if they were willing to accept the job long before the baby is born. It was an old tradition that stemmed from the days of war, when it had been necessary to build a social safety net in case anything happened to the parents. Back then, the godparent was also responsible for the expectant mother’s well-being. Now that life on Ruul was peaceful, it was just a gesture, but a cherished one.

“Have you chosen a name?”

“Jonah. It’s a name I’ve always liked,” I said.

“That’s a boy’s name, I assume? From Earth?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. I was sure it was a boy. I told Yoru.

“Well then. Jonah it is. It sounds… nice.”

“Alien,” I corrected him.

“A little, but the priests won’t object,” he said.

“Priests?”

Yoru smiled. “You have a few things to learn yet,” he said. “There’s a naming ceremony, and I’d be honoured to guide your son through it. If that is what you want for him. I’m sorry I’d always assumed… I’m sure you have your own faith to consider.”

“I’m not particularly religious,” I said. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about what I wanted for Jonah. “When you see what’s going on right now you wonder if there’s anything you can believe in. Betrayal seems to be behind every corner.”

“You’re probably right. But I find it soothing to know that there’s someone,” Yoru said. “You must have seen so many things.”

I shrugged.

“You’ve given up your life on Earth for the Doctor,” he mused. I had an idea where this was going. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Sometimes, but ever since Mum has been in the other universe I don’t really have anything to go back to. Apart from the occasional thing I miss. Like chips. Or the idea that I need a human doctor to check up on the little one and me,” I said, patting my stomach.

“I’m sure the Doctor looks after you very well,” he said.

“He can be very alien at times,” I said. “But yes, he does.”

“I’m so happy for you, Rose.”

“I’m glad you’ve found Giorgia. Don’t let her go without a fight, yeah?” I said.

He smiled, taking my hand. “I won’t.”

I embraced him and we sat holding each other for a while. Then I gathered my things and moved them, one by one, because Yoru wouldn’t have it any other way since he couldn’t help me, to the room I had shared with the Doctor.

 

-:-

 

Shortly before dinner, there was an excited knock on my door. I was getting ready after a long nap in the garden. The amount of time I’d spent napping recently was getting ridiculous, but I couldn’t deny I was feeling very relaxed and very well. If there was one thing I could do about being stuck in the 1940s as a pregnant woman it was to listen to my body’s demands. I felt very much alive and refreshed. If it was the Doctor outside my door I was sure I’d shag him well into next week.

But it was Yoru. He looked excited as well as upset. I stepped aside to let him enter. He was supposed to be in bed. I knew that the walls in the hotel had eyes and ears, so I let him in quickly to avoid any suspicion.

“What is it, Yoru?” I asked after I had closed the door firmly behind him.

“I know who ratted the resistance out to the Germans,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“It’s Signor Albertin,” he said.

I paled and my whole body went cold. I didn’t want to believe that it was Signor Albertin, but it made sense. He was the one who had passed on necessary information to Zia via me. She was the head of the resistance, there was no doubt about it; the Germans probably knew that as well but they were waiting for the right moment to strike. Ratting her out to the Germans would have caused a riot among the population of San Girolamo. But passing on the odd piece of information about planned missions seemed to be all right.

“That explains a lot,” I mumbled.

“Like what?”

“Why he got the supplies I needed to repair the books so quickly,” I replied. “He told me it would be tricky to come by them because of the war. And yet he seemed to get them without much trouble.”

“Ruulmira. What are we to do?” he slumped onto my bed.

“We’ll have to tell Zia,” I said. “I’ll tell her myself.”

“What?” Yoru looked at me as if I’d lost all my marbles. “You can’t do that. She won’t even allow you inside the estate.”

“No, that she won’t. I have a better plan,” I said. It was coming together in mind as links formed that I hadn’t even considered before because the information seemed so disparate. But now it was very clear, and the beauty of it was its simplicity. It was also its strong point. The plan was so obvious and simple that no one would make the connection because of that. Sometimes I loved the fact that people tended to think in more complicated patterns than necessary.

“Is it going to work?” Yoru asked, taking my hands and pulling me down to sit beside him.

“I think so. You see, I was thinking that—”

He clamped his hand firmly over my mouth. “Don’t tell me, keri. Don’t tell me anything I don’t need to know.”

I nodded, touching his hand. He dropped it into his lap. “I’m sure it’s going to work. But we only have one chance.”

He smiled wistfully. “Don’t we always?”

“How did you find out?” I asked.

“Being Hauptmann Bach has its advantages,” he said. “I asked for some files to review, duty rosters mainly, and the post’s books. That’s how I found him, by connecting disparate bits of information. Ruulmira be thanked for small favours. Like the meticulous organisation of the Germans. You can’t believe the things they write down.”

“Unfortunately, I can,” I said. “It’s why we know so much about their crimes,” I said.

“I don’t think I want to know, right now. I might, though, one day,” Yoru said. “It is so amazing to have the chance to learn about Humans and all the different kinds of cultures they have developed. And it’s a true gift to have you as a friend, Rose. Can I tell you something in Ruulim, without the TARDIS translating for us?”

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to expect. Although we’d talked about the kiss, I still knew that Yoru was very fond of me. “Just ignore her,” I said.

“You know that I love you, Rose. I fell in love you when I first saw you,” he said.

I nodded for him to go on.

“I was gutted when I found out you were in love with the Doctor. I knew I needed to let you go. But there is a place in my heart that belongs to you. I need that. Even though I am madly in love with Giorgia. Loving the two of you… it’s different. Loving you, to me, is like a widower’s love for his lost wife. Am I making any sense?” he asked, slumping a little.

“You are.”

“Well, that’s it. You’re the wife I’ve lost, my sovvalu. You’re my first true love, Rose, and please forgive me for feeling like this. I love you, Rose.” He ducked his head, his eyes brimming with tears.

I’d had no idea.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, Rose. It’s just… the kiss was rather selfish and I’m ashamed of it. I do love Giorgia, and I so want her to come with me when we go home. She’s the one who makes me forget about you,” he said. “Now that sounds rude.”

I smiled. “No. I’m glad you love her that much. Is she your sovvalu?”

He nodded. “May I hug you, Rose fiyolian, keri?” he asked.

I opened my arms and held him tight. I’d had no idea. Poor Giorgia. Or thank Heaven for Giorgia? I wondered if she knew about Yoru’s feelings for me. But if he wanted to ask her to come with us, he really must love her. And then there was the baby, of course. As far as I could tell he was unaware of it. Why hadn’t she told him? She was ready to leave Earth. So why not tell him he was going to be a father?

-:-

The next day, I went to confession. Seeing the church full of sandbags was strange. I loved the colourful frescoes, and the church didn’t feel the same without them. Even the sound and smell in the church were different. The sounds were muffled and underlying the smell of candles, incense and marble was that of sand and burlap.

I sat in the pews, waiting my turn at confession. I hoped that Zia would come, as he usually did, although I had no idea what she had to confess. She hadn’t struck me as a particularly devout woman when I’d lived at the estate. I was taking a leap of faith, in quite a different sense, with my plan, and as I sat, staring at the painted rafters of the flat ceiling above me, I prayed to God or whoever was listening that I was doing the right thing. Zia was always the last to take confession, and as of yet, there was no sign of her. To my surprise, there were even two German soldiers waiting their turn, and for a moment I wondered if I’d better leave. I hadn’t expected them of all people to turn up for confession. They nodded at me politely, recognising me as the Hauptmann’s wife, but otherwise minded their own business. They had arrived before me, and hopefully they’d give their confessions and go without causing any bother.

I was glad I had watched quite a few films when I entered the booth and closed the door behind me. I knew about the etiquette; not that it mattered much with what I had in mind, but at least it would keep up appearances.

The air was stale in the close booth, and I sat carefully on the narrow bench. Maybe I should have been kneeling. I had no idea.

“Forgive me, Father, for I am going to sin,” I said. I’d changed the formula I knew from films to catch Father Carmello’s attention — or, rather, to test if it was really him. He’d recognise my voice.

“Tell me, my child, what is troubling you,” Father Carmello replied from behind the grille separating us. To my surprise he replied in English to let me know he knew who I was.

“I have desired my neighbour’s husband,” I said. “I kissed him because I felt lonely.”

“Go on,” he said.

“He bears witness of someone’s crime,” I said.

“Oh, that is indeed grave, my child,” Father Carmello said. “Commit it to paper.” I could hear the sound of a page being torn out of a book, and then he pushed the rolled-up page and a pencil through the grille.

I wrote it down, rolled the page up again and pushed it back through the wooden lattice.

“I haven’t told Zia yet,” I said. “But she ought to know, right, Father?”

“If it makes you feel better, my child,” he replied.

“Also, I have denied myself to my true husband,” I said, blushing.

“Now, I’m sure that he’ll understand,” he said.

“That is all, Father.”

“Take care of yourself and your child, Rose. I will take care of the rest, so help me God,” he said. “Ten Hail Marys should do it. Ego te absolvo. In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti.”

“Thank you, Father,” I said, and left.

“The correct answer is Amen.”

I grinned. The strangely stale air of the church smelled sweet after the close quarters of the confessional booth. I went to a pew across the aisle to pretend I was doing my penance. Of course, I had no idea of how, nor any intention to pray. I just wanted to keep up appearances. And I needed an excuse to stay and see if Zia turned up.

She did eventually. Of course she made a point of ignoring me.

I waited for her to come out of the booth again.

When she did, with Piero’s assistance, she nodded at me, a gesture barely noticeable to anyone else, but very clear to me because I’d been expecting it. My plan had worked.

When I stepped outside, leaving Zia to do her penance, all hell broke loose.


	20. Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is the chapter in which two characters die.
> 
> You can SKIP THIS CHAPTER if you feel it's a bit too much to bear (since Rose's loss is so devastating): I have put a summary of it at the beginning of the next one.

It was market day in San Girolamo. The square around the well had been taken over by stalls with colourful awnings. There wasn’t much food to be had apart from the fruit and vegetables and bread that farmers from the area were able to produce. If you knew who to talk to you could buy some game poached from Zia’s and other nobles’ estates; they really knew how to cook wild boar. People did sell old clothes, however, clothes that were good enough to be mended or taken apart and made into new trousers or skirts. There were stalls selling used books, and, as always, Alessandra had come with her beautiful hand-made pottery. I loved her plates and bowls, and I’d been thinking for a while about getting a set of my favorite design for the TARDIS. It seemed silly that I was contemplating tableware for the TARDIS in the face of the conflict that surrounded us, but it gave me something normal to think about.

So although there wasn’t much available to buy, the place was crawling with people. It really had become a chance to socialize and ignore the German Occupation, showing them that life went on despite their presence. Their defiance was inspiring, and I’d often thought that the townspeople were resistance fighters just as much as the brave men and women hiding in the woods. They would not allow the war to crush them.

As I neared the steps leading down to the square I thought I saw Yoru ducking his head to inspect the spines of the books at the stall on the edge of market. He was wearing his wide-brimmed hat and the clothes in which he had first arrived here. He’d also slipped on a pair of glasses, and that did the trick. He could go out in this disguise without being recognised. He moved with a limp too. There was no way anyone would look twice at him.

He’d been going mad with boredom, and he needed to get some exercise. As much as I wanted to shoo him back to the hotel, I was unable to begrudge him this tiny bit of freedom. I decided to ignore him so as not to raise anyone’s suspicion.

I had just made it to the bottom of the steps when an explosion tore a gaping hole into the town hall, raining stones, wood and glass on the market at its feet. The roar was deafening, and although I was on the far side of it, it still made my ears ring and the shock wave knocked me off my feet. I sat heavily on the old stone steps, bruising my back and my already sprained wrist.

I’d raised my arm to protect my head from the falling debris, so I’d lost sight of Yoru. I sat, momentarily blind and deaf, trying to catch my breath. I dropped my bad hand to my stomach, feeling for Jonah. It was a calming gesture; I hadn’t felt him move yet, and probably wouldn’t for while.

“Are you all right, signora?”

Someone was touching my shoulder, helping me to sit up, and I added my other hand to caress my bump. When I looked up I recognised Piero, Zia’s right hand man and lover.

“Yes, I think so. What happened?”

With the question, the world came alive once more, as if I’d pressed the mute button to bring back the sound of a film. The square was utter chaos. People were running about screaming and yelling, and the town hall looked like a doll house; the front wall had been torn away, and the rooms had been torn to pieces. The clock tower was badly damaged, and I feared it might collapse.

“We’d better get you to safety, signora,” Piero said, putting his arm around me to help me to my feet. His gaze was on the campanile as well.

“Where’s Zia?”

“She’s probably still in the church.”

“Piero!”

Standing, I turned around. “Not any more,” I said. Zia had wheeled herself to the edge of the stairs, along with Father Carmello and the last of the people who’d gone to confession.

“Come,” Piero said.

“I can’t. Roberto’s there!” I cried, pointing at the chaotic scene.

“What?”

Another explosion tore through the square. It was small, but it was powerful enough to destroy La Cisterna. I sat heavily on the stairs. It could have been Yoru, Giorgia and me in there. If Yoru wasn’t in his room, then chances were Giorgia wasn’t either. Still. Both attacks were meant for the Germans, but the resistance knew that three of theirs were in the hotel — obviously, they’d been ready to sacrifice us.

Shocked, I looked at Piero. “Yoru was at the market. I saw him earlier. He’s wearing a hat and glasses.”

“Who?”

I stared at him in shock and disbelief. “Roberto. My husband.”

“Come inside the church, signora,” Father Carmello said. He’d appeared at my elbow. “Piero, go and look for him. I’ll take care of her.” His grip around my elbow was firm, and he walked me up the stairs.

After that second detonation, the Germans exploded into action. They came out of their hiding places to wreak havoc at the townspeople, punishing innocent victims for the deeds of the resistance. Did they really think that they’d have been at the market if they’d known about the bombs?

“Rose!”

I turned around. It was Yoru. He was safe. He was covered in dust, and he had some cuts and bruises, but other than that he was fine. He came straight towards us, wrapping his arm around me, gesturing for Father Carmello to look after his flock.

“Are you all right, keri?” Yoru asked.

“Shocked and bruised. What have they done? Does the Doctor know?” I asked. “Where is he, Yoru? Where is the Doctor?”

“I have no idea, Rose. Come on, let’s get you to safety. The Germans have guns, and that tower doesn’t look like it’s going to stay upright for much longer,” he said, pressing forwards.

We had nearly reached the church door when the staccato of machine guns tore through the square. I wanted to turn around, but Yoru pushed me onto the ground, an expression of surprise on his face. As I hit the flagstones, I was reminded of my tumble off the bike. Sharp pain shot through my knee and wrist. Yoru also shoved me in the shoulder hard, leaving me winded again.

Jonah. I had to keep Jonah safe.

Yoru lay on top of me, making it difficult for me to breathe. I’d also fallen into an awkward position that aggravated my previous injuries. Yoru’s breath was hot on my cheek, and it came in gusts. There was a dampness on my back, against my shoulder which he’d shoved.

“Yoru,” I groaned. “You… get off me. I can’t… I can’t breathe.”

“Rose,” Yoru panted. He rolled off me. I flopped onto my back, gulping in the air. Again it was as if someone had muted the volume on everything.

“Yoru?”

Something red was blooming on is shirt.

He’d been shot.

I scrambled to my knees, ignoring my own pain. “Yoru? Yoru!” I cried. I tore his shirt open to assess the damage. The exit wound was very close to his heart. Wadding up strips of the shirt, ignoring my own pain, I pressed the fabric over the wound. Yoru winced and I whispered how sorry I was.

“I… Are you all right, sovvalu?” he managed to say, reaching for my hand. “You’re… there’s blood…”

I looked at my shoulder. My blouse was soaked in blood, and it stuck to my skin. It was strangely comforting to feel it trickle down my skin, warm and almost like a caress.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

“Good. I… I need to… to keep you safe. An… and Jonah. The baby.” He smiled. “Did you… D’you know… I’m going to… to be a father too?”

“That’s wonderful, Yoru. Now come, we need to get you inside,” I urged him.

He smiled serenely. “I don’t… I can. Look after my baby, yes? Rose? Please?”

I nodded, tears brimming in my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Yoru couldn’t be dying, not out here, not away from Ruul, not in someone else’s war. It wasn’t right. He had Fenia and the children, and Giorgia and his own baby. It was supposed to be his birthday present, he couldn’t…

“Yes, Yoru. Now come on.”

“It’s all right, fiyolian. You go inside,” he wheezed.

I bent to kiss him. He even managed to press his lips to mine ever so softly, but then his breathing slowed down. I hadn’t noticed Piero and Father Carmello return until they took me by the shoulders.

“M’aruu, keri, I’m…happy,” he whispered. Then his body went limp, and he was gone. Bewildered, I closed his eyes and kissed him one last time.

“Come, now, Rosa, come inside,” Father Carmello said gently.

“I’ll go and get the doctor,” Piero said.

“Why?” I asked, dazed. Why now? Why not earlier, when Yoru had needed him? It was too late now. My best friend was dead. He’d never smile again. I’d never taste his divine maklak again. He’d not even see his beloved sister again. We’d never dance to his gramophone. “He’s dead, Father. Yoru’s dead,” I said, dazed, staring at my blood-covered hands.

“I know, Rosa,” he said.

I couldn’t cry, but I couldn’t hold myself upright either. Suddenly dizzy and light-headed, I sagged against him, and he swept me up into his arms. We entered the church, dark and quiet as it was, and I thought, I’m safe now. I closed my eyes, and I was glad I didn’t have to take care of things. I was so tired. So tired.

-:-

The pain in my right shoulder was excruciating. It came with the suddenness of a stab, and I screamed, but I had no idea if anyone heard me in the sea of darkness I was swimming in. I had been here before. It was warm and comfortable, and I felt weightless. I felt safe.

There were voices, however, many voices, male voices and female ones. But I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

There were hands as well. They touched me and held me, and finally one pair was malialion.

I allowed myself to drift deeper into the darkness.

-:-

“Rose?” The Doctor was smiling at me, but his brows knitted together. There was a hopefulness in his expression, but it was the sorrow that eclipsed it.

“Doctor,” I whispered, my throat parched. How long had it been? What about Jonah? I wanted to drift my hands down to my bump, but I could move only my left. My right hand was firmly tied to my midriff.

He placed a glass of water at my lips. “Here, this’ll help you feel better.”

I took small sips of the cool water.

“Is she conscious?” That was Zia. I turned my head. She was there, sitting on a pile of cushions on the floor. Why was she… why was I lying on the floor?

Oh.

“Yes, yes, she his,” the Doctor smiled. “Hey there, my love.”

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“There was a bullet in your shoulder. We had to take it out and you’ve lost a lot of blood,” he explained. From the way his words were coming, haltingly, well thought out, I could tell that he was close to falling apart. So he knew about Yoru.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I’m glad you were out there,” he said, brushing back my hair.

Oh yes. The hotel.

“What about the baby?” I asked, starting to caress my bump. They had taken off my ruined blouse and covered me with a scratchy blanket.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” he said.

“Can’t we go back to the TARDIS? I want to go home.”

“I know, my love, but it’s too dangerous out there,” he said. “The Germans have cordoned everything off and they’ve put up roadblocks.”

I closed my eyes. “Yoru. He saved my life.”

“Yes, he did,” the Doctor said, moving to lie next to me, propped up on an elbow.

“Where are we?”

“Inside the church, in one of the chapels. I believe it’s dedicated to a saint who protects the sick and injured,” he explained. I looked around. The frescoes and altar were hidden by sheets and sand bags. The chapel felt like a cave. A bit of light was filtering in through the window high above us. The light was beginning to fade.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s just gone eight,” the Doctor said.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, ngudia sam. You haven’t missed much,” he said, attempting a smile.

“Can I listen to Jonah’s heartbeat?” I asked.

The Doctor nodded. He found his stethoscope in his pocket, then he dug out his sonic screwdriver as well and it whirred to life, bathing the chest piece in blue light. I found that simple action oddly soothing. This was the Doctor, and he could fix things. He’d find a way to keep me safe.

He placed the ear pieces in my ears and lifted the blanket. My camisole was dark with blood, but he ignored the stains, lifting the stiff material up so he could place the chest piece on my stomach.

I hissed as he touched me with the cold metal, and he whispered a quick apology. It took me a while to hear it, and I covered the Doctor’s hand with mine to move it around on my skin. But finally I found Jonah’s heartbeat. I smiled, caressing the Doctor’s hand. “I can hear him.”

He smiled wistfully.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said, kissing my temple and pulling his hand out from beneath mine. “We’ll try to find a way out of here after dark.”

“Are you in any pain, Rose?” Giorgia asked, removing the stethoscope. I wanted to ask her to leave it so I could listen to Jonah, to make sure he was safe. I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I’d not noticed her presence. My eyes filled with tears when I realised that I was the reason why Yoru was dead, why she had lost her lover and the father of her child.

“I’m so sorry, Giorgia,” I said, tears beginning to course down the sides of my face. Giorgia brushed them away. She seemed oddly calm.

“Hush now, don’t cry, cara,” she said. “I can give you something if you want.” She was in full professional mode to keep functioning. She was also in her nurse’s uniform, which was why she’d been allowed in. Blood stained her white pinafore, and there was a dark bruise on her left cheek, and a cut on the right side of her forehead. Who had done that to her? Who had beaten her to keep her from coming to my aid? I felt anger welling up inside me, a kind of rage I didn’t know I still possessed. It was the wolf rearing her head.

“Rose, Rose,” the Doctor whispered close by my ear.

I closed my eyes again. My back hurt. I must have pulled a muscle when I fell, and the wound in my shoulder was throbbing. “Was it the bullet that killed Yoru?” I asked, looking pointedly at my bandaged torso and shoulder. The Doctor covered me up against the cold in the church.

“Yes, but Dottore Ruggiero has taken it out,” Giorgia said. She reached into the pocket of her pinafore and removed a shiny bean. It sat on her palm, catching the candle light.

Sharp pain shot through my back suddenly, taking my breath away. Then I felt a rush of something wet and warm between my legs, soaking my knickers and running down my skin. I felt my eyes go wide in surprise.

Giorgia folded back the blanket and reached underneath my skirt. When she she brought her hand back to the light, I knew what I’d see. Her hand was shining darkly with my blood.

“No,” I said softly. “No, please. No.”

“I’m sorry, Rose,” she said softly.

“What’s happening?” the Doctor asked numbly. He knew, but his hearts didn’t want to understand it.

“I’m losing the baby,” I whispered, fresh tears springing to my eyes, and this time it was because of a different kind of pain. “I’m losing the baby, aren’t I?”

“I’m afraid so,” Giorgia said.

The Doctor tightened his fist around my hand, crushing my fingers and relieving my pain a little.

“No. There must be something we can do,” the Doctor protested.

“I’m afraid not,” Giorgia said.

“But his heartbeat, it’s still there!” the Doctor cried, clumsily adjusting the stethoscope. He pressed the cold metal against my stomach. “There! It’s strong. Fast, but strong.”

Giorgia took the ear pieces as he offered them to her, more to humour him than because she’s learn anything she didn’t already know. She knew what was happening. She was close to sitting her midwifery exam. She listened for a while, then returned the instrument to the Doctor.

“When Rose fell, she hurt herself, Doctor. And she’s lost a lot of blood. It’s her body keeping her safe. It can’t support the baby any more,” Giorgia explained gently. She rose to her feet. “I’ll get some sheets and water.”

“Oh Rose,” the Doctor said, his eyes filling with tears.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I asked. “When I told you I was pregnant? You knew we were going to lose him.”

The Doctor nodded. “There was… His time line’s very weak and short. I had no idea it would be like this. I didn’t dare look.”

“You protected yourself,” I said, cupping his cheek. Another wave of pain washed over me. So this was me going into labour.

“I was being a coward!” the Doctor roared, plucking my hand off his cheek. “If I’d looked closer I’d have seen things, I’d never have brought you here. Yoru would still be alive.”

“But it would have happened anyway, only differently,” I said.

The Doctor pressed his lips into a firm line and looked away. The dimples were deep in his cheeks as the candle light flickered over his face, and for a minute I was afraid of him. “Don’t leave me, Doctor,” I whispered.

“I won’t.”

Giorgia returned with the sheets and Father Carmello in tow. I found his presence reassuring, although I’d never been particularly religious. He was a kind man, and his calm rubbed off on me and, hopefully, on the Doctor too.

Another pain tore through me, taking my breath away momentarily. When I could breathe again, I screamed. I was terrified and furious. I loved my little boy so much.

“Rose!” the Doctor cried in surprise, moving to hold me.

At least the baby’s still alive, I thought as Giorgia pulled my skirt and knickers off and washed the insides of my thighs with a damp cloth. Then she spread the blanket over my lap to give me some dignity.

There was a bump on the church doors, and another one, and another one. Father Carmello hurried away to scold the would-be intruders.

The next contraction was even more powerful than the last. The baby was coming fast. It was coming too soon. It was supposed to be inside my womb for another twenty weeks or so. It couldn’t be coming now, in all this chaos, in this church.

The thump of heavy boots on stone approached the chapel, and the Doctor jumped to his feet. To my horror, he drew the gun, and when the uniformed men appeared at the wrought-iron grille separating the chapel from the nave, he pointed it at one of the men. “Don’t you dare come a single step closer,” he snarled. The Storm had come so suddenly, roused by the Wolf inside me. I had no idea if I had lost control of my thoughts as the contractions tore through me.

The Doctor was pointing a gun at a person.

My blood turned to ice with fear. I’d never seen the Doctor like this, not even when he faced the Daleks. The hatred and rage inside him were pure and powerful.

“I will not tolerate weapons in my church,” Father Carmello roared. “Nor do I tolerate the violation of holy ground. These people are seeking shelter inside these walls. You will respect that.”

The men stood staring at each other. The gun in the Doctor’s hand was trembling ever so lightly.

“Doctor?” I asked softly, feeling another contraction nearing.

He lowered his gun and tossed it onto the floor with a loud clatter.

“Now go,” Father Carmello said, and, miraculously, the German soldiers disappeared.

“Doctor!” I cried, sitting up as fresh pain stole my breath. I hadn’t even started practising proper breathing yet. I thought I had plenty of time. But the baby was coming now.

Giorgia lifted the blanket. “It’s coming very fast, she said.

Time lost meaning after I regained my breath eventually, and then, suddenly, I felt the tiny baby slide out of me. I couldn’t protect him any more. I curled into the Doctor’s arms briefly, burying my face in his chest. He smelled of dust and blood and sweat. The smell grounded me.

“No,” I whispered.

“It’s a perfect little baby boy,” Giorgia said, a wistful smile in her voice. I looked at her. She was dabbing at his body with a damp cloth. I could see a tiny foot, red and perfect in the candle light. “Here he is,” she said, passing him to me, wrapped in a dry napkin. The Doctor freed my bound hand so I could hold him in the cup of my palms. The pain that shot through my shoulder was nothing compared to the pain that shot through my heart.

He was so tiny he easily fit into my hands. The Doctor removed the napkin.

“Jonah,” I whispered. He was indeed perfect. His pink skin was nearly translucent, and he moved slightly, disoriented by the sudden cold. His eyes were firmly closed, but his tiny mouth puckered up and relaxed.

“Soyanlon,” the Doctor breathed, running the tip of his finger over our son’s head. I couldn’t believe that the furious man who would had just threatened a person with a weapon was this gentle person, bursting with love and grief for our tiny baby boy.

He covered him up with the napkin to keep as warm as possible, and Jonah squirmed a bit. He reminded me of the dazed sparrow I’d held all those years ago.

“Our baby. Our boy,” I whispered. I wanted, above all, to take him back inside my womb where he was safe and warm and could grow until it was time for him to be born and to have a life. I was ready to burst with love for him, but lurking in the shadows were the grief and the emptiness he’d leave behind.

“May I hold him?” the Doctor asked, his voice trembling. Reluctantly, I let him scoop our son out of my hands and covered the baby with his makeshift blanket. The Doctor bent his head to feather a kiss on Jonah’s head and to whisper something in Gallifreyan to him. I didn’t listen. I wanted him to have this moment with his son, so I just drank in the image of the Doctor and our baby. It was one I’d treasure for ever.

Eventually, he returned Jonah to me, and his heart stopped beating in my hands.

“Good bye, Jonah,” I whispered. “We’ll always love you.”

The Doctor stood from where he’d sat beside me, all tension and energy fed by rage. He paced the chapel, glancing helplessly at me with the body of our son in my hands, until finally he burst out of the chapel and out of sight. In the distance, through my own tears, I could hear a howl of fury and pain and then nothing.

“I am so sorry, Rose,” Father Carmello said.

“Would you bless him, Father, please?” I asked.

Father Carmello did, and then he took Jonah away and I gave myself over to Giorgia’s and Zia’s care, suddenly numb and empty. I didn’t feel a thing for a long while, and I was grateful for it.


	21. Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nineteen Summarised
> 
> It’s market day in San Girolamo, and the townspeople go about their buisness and socialise despite the German Occupation. Yoru has come out of the hotel, wearing glasses and a hat, affecting a limp. Just as Rose steps out of the church, she catches a glimpse of him.
> 
> Then a bomb goes off in the town hall. Rose falls on the stairs and Piero, who has been waiting for Zia comes to her aid. She wants Yoru to be safe, refusing to leave. Just when he turns up, a second bomb goes off, destroying La Cisterna. Together with Father Carmello they get Rose back to the church, but just as they reach the door, Yoru is shot. He dies in Rose’s arms. The bullet that killed him lodged itself in Rose’s shoulder, so they take her inside the church unconscious.
> 
> Dottore Ruggiero takes the bullet out of Rose’s shoulder, and she has lost a lot of blood. When she wakes again, it’s nearly dark, and the Doctor is by her side. They listen to Jonah’s heartbeat, which is all right. But then Rose goes into labour.
> 
> The Germans break down the door to the church and the Doctor holds them at gunpoint until Father Carmello throws them out and the Doctor drops the gun.
> 
> Jonah is born shortly after, and Rose and the Doctor have a short while with him before he dies in Rose’s hands. Rose realises that the Doctor had reacted the way about the news of her pregnancy because he’d had a glimpse of Jonah’s time line; he didn’t look long enough to see what exactly was going to happen. The Doctor leaves, furious with grief. Father Carmello blesses Jonah and takes his body away from Rose, who gives herself over to Giorgia and Zia’s care, goes numb with grief.

Twenty

The Allies liberated San Girolamo that night. The bombs had been intended to weaken the Germans and make the liberation easier, and no one but Germans had been killed in the hotel blast. It turned out that Giorgia knew, and she shooed Yoru and everyone else out of their rooms. Ironically, his room remained almost undamaged. If he’d stayed he’d still be alive now.

They moved me back to Zia’s on her insistence. I didn’t care much where I was. I had lost my baby, and the Doctor had disappeared. I hadn’t seen him since he had fled the chapel. Dottore Ruggiero had apparently authorised Giorgia to keep me on painkillers, so I spent most of the ensuing two days dozing in the darkened, cool room Zia had first given me. It was good to be back in the familiar surroundings.

I was rarely left alone. Once I woke to have Zia sitting in a chair by my bed. She was reading a book and closed it, smiling, when she saw I was awake. “Hello there, cara,” she said, reaching for my hand.

“Thirsty,” I managed to rasp.

She scooted forwards a little to be able to get the pitcher and the glass on my bedside table. There was a straw in the glass and she could reach just far enough for me to suck the straw between my lips and drink. The water was wonderful, cool and soothing on my parched throat. “Slowly,” she warned me. “How’s the pain?”

“I feel numb,” I replied, dropping my head back onto the pillows. Drinking had exhausted me. I looked down my body. My shoulder was heavily bandaged and my hand had been tied to my midriff again. But there was no bump. I dropped my hand to my flat stomach.

Zia covered my hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, Rose.” Finally, she was able to address me by my real name. I wasn’t sure I liked it. As Rosa, at least, I’d still had my baby, my husband and my best friend. Now I had no one. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. The tears forced their way out through between my lashes.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Zia muttered. She gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, but she did nothing to wipe my tears away. There was nothing she could do.

Father Carmello came to look after me as well, and I was very touched. “How are you feeling, Rose?” He, too, used my real name.

“Why did I have to lose them, Father?”

He didn’t answer with platitudes, but rather a sympathetic look and a gentle hand on my good shoulder. I really liked him for that. He understood that there was no consolation for me now, but that I appreciated the company.

Dottore Ruggiero came to check on me, and he stuck to my physical well-being, satisfied with the healing process of my shoulder and my womb. “Do you need any more pain killers, Rose?”

“No, I’m fine. I’d appreciate some sleeping pills, though. Just in case,” I said.

“I’ll leave some with Giorgia.”

Most of the time, it was Giorgia who stayed with me, though. She made herself comfortable on the empty side of my bed, reading or just dozing. We shared our loss in silence, but secretly I hoped for her to break so I could too. I couldn’t believe that she didn’t talk to me about what had happened. We talked about everything else, and she took great care of me, but she never mentioned Yoru. He’d died because he had protected me from the German bullets, me and my baby. And now they were both gone, and Giorgia’s baby would have to grow up without a father.

On the third day, I needed to get some air and so I moved back to my hammock in the shade of the holly oaks. I took my book, but whenever I tried to read I’d find my attention wander, the words on the page failing to transport me into the story. Also, my right arm hurt from holding the book after a while of, so I gave up.

Giorgia had gone back to town to get Yoru’s and my possessions from La Cisterna. The Americans were reluctant to allow her into the ruin of the hotel, but Guido eventually put his foot down and took her to our rooms.

“What are these?” she asked when she came to find me in the overgrown part of the garden. She held up a package of Yoru’s letters to Fenia. He had written his sister’s name on them in Ruulim script, but the TARDIS translated them for Giorgia.

“Yoru wrote letters to his sister instead of keeping a diary,” I explained. “He gave them to me for safekeeping. Thank you for bringing them.” I took them from her as she sat heavily on the chair by the hammock. Going through the package, I found one letter addressed to Giorgia. He had drawn her name on it in an attempt to try to learn Latin writing. It was just like him to do this for her.

I passed her the letter, my eyes brimming. “This is for you,” I said, my throat constricting.

Surprised, she took the letter. It trembled like a leaf in her fingers, and she sat there staring at it for a while. “He asked me to go with him,” she said.

“I know,” I managed to say. My tears spilt over.

“I said yes.”

I smiled and sobbed at the same time, clamping my hand over my mouth, the gesture reminding me quite painfully that I wasn’t supposed to move my arm like that. I nodded.

“I can’t,” she said. “Not without him. I can’t leave.”

“But you’re my friend,” I managed to say.

“That I am,” she said. “But I don’t think that I’ll be happy in your world without him.”

I could see her point, but I hated to lose her too. I doubt that without her presence in those first few days I would have survived the aftermath of the battle. “Can you stay until the Doctor is back?” I asked. “Please?”

She nodded, pocketing the letter. “I need you just as much,” she said. “May I read to you?” she asked, picking up the book I had dropped to the grass next to my shoes. Drying my cheeks I nodded for her to go ahead, and I found her voice soothing as she started to read. She was a good reader and her voice was pleasant to listen to, but I didn’t hear a single word of what she was reading. I just lay in my hammock, rocking it gently by touching the ground with my left foot every now and then, giving myself over to the sound of her voice. I supposed that she felt the same way, only that reading rather than listening helped to comfort her.

By the time Luisa came to summon us for dinner, both Giorgia and I had had a good cry, each of us in her own time, and for once I didn’t feel numb. I felt hollow, and I supposed it was good because it meant it was a beginning.

-:-

I refused to bury Jonah until the Doctor turned up again. I couldn’t do it by myself, besides, I had no idea if the Doctor would want our son to be buried in an Italian cemetery. There hadn’t even been a naming ceremony because I had no idea about Gallifreyan traditions. I hated him for leaving me alone with my grief and my pain. Giorgia went to all of their cell’s hiding spots, including the ruined shed the Doctor had been staying in before the bombings. There was no trace of him. He had the ability to disappear if he didn’t want to be found. In my darkest moment I went to check the TARDIS, but she just sat there, humming and quiet. Either she was hiding the Doctor or he really wasn’t there.

On the fourth day I decided to take the blanket I had made for Jonah apart. It was made of knitted squares which were then sewn together. I removed one square and added the edging that would have gone around the whole blanket, but only on the two sides that would have made up the corner of the complete blanket. The blanket missed the square and I only added the edging to the rest of the blanket, except for the corner where the now-missing square would have been. I wanted it to look as if a part had been torn from it. I’d keep the blanket but wrap Jonah’s body in the square; for his burial or whatever we eventually did with his body.

They say part of you dies when you lose someone. How many parts die when you lose your entire family? As far as I was concerned I had not only lost my son and my best friend but also my husband and my best friend’s fiancée because she wasn’t going to go with us.

My rage and grief drove me out of my hammock after I had prepared the blanket. I urged Giorgia to show me exercises that would help my shoulder heal. “You should take it easy, though,” Giorgia advised. “Wait until Dottore Ruggiero has removed the stitches.”

Sighing, I accepted her advice.

I went for a long walk, and although I was sore and tired I felt somehow compelled to keep walking. Eventually, I reached the Doctor’s shed, and as I stepped into the gloom I found it empty and it looked as though it had been for quite a while. I sat on the mattress, remembering how I had denied the Doctor the comfort of my body. I felt worse for that than ever. And now I had lost him. I hadn’t taken care of him and I hadn’t protected our child properly. It was little wonder that he had left.

Tears spilt over and I curled up, wincing, on the mattress to cry myself to sleep. I was so tired of everything. If I just curled up here, maybe the world would forget about me. What use was I to it now anyway? I didn’t belong here. I was only a burden to Zia, and I was responsible for Giorgia’s loss.

-:-

I woke because I was cold and because there was a rustling sound. When I opened my eyes I found the shed in complete darkness. I tried to check the time on my watch but it was too dark to see the face. The rustling sound startled me again, and then it came again and again, and every time it was closer until I felt the mattress dip.

I held my breath, holding up my good arm. Whatever kind of animal it was, I didn’t want it to touch me. It turned out that it was so startled by my movement that it turned around with a squeak and scurried away. It couldn’t have been big, but I was still relieved that it was gone. It just wouldn’t do to be bitten and get rabies.

I got up and stumbled outside. The sky above me was clear and full of stars. There was no moon so it was pitch dark. I went a bit further away from the shed, which turned into a black shadow, to find a place where I could pee. That done, I took a few more steps to get warm again. If I stayed the night I’d catch a cold. I’d survive that. The shed was close to the road, and and as far as I could remember, the road was level so I wouldn’t have to climb and there were no potholes for me to trip over. The road was good so I might as well walk back to the estate. There, at least, I’d be able to curl up in one of the chairs on the patio, and if I was lucky there’d be a blanket too.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I started to walk, and my journey was serenaded by crickets and the sound of other nocturnal animals. Dark shapes flitted between the trees above me; it was the tiny bats, hunting. It was a beautiful night, and I inhaled the scents of wild herbs that grew along the road. I might stay here after all. Find a place to stay by myself so I didn’t burden anyone with my presence. Or I might try to get back to London once it was safe to travel. The war wouldn’t be over for a while yet. I could repair books or work as a librarian to earn my keep.

When I finally arrived at the villa I was looking forward to sitting down and resting. I made my way to the side of the building, the gravel crunching beneath my feet. The sound alerted Piero, who met me with a lantern. “Who’s there?” he growled.

“It’s me, Piero. Rosa,” I said, tired.

He hurried towards me to make sure that I was really who I’d said I was. “Mamma mia, Rosa!” he cried. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you all over.” He took me gently by the arm. As touched as I was by his concern I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. I didn’t deserve all this.

“I’ll just go to bed,” I said. “What time is it?”

“It’s past two,” he replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry for keeping you,” I said. It seemed that I hadn’t mastered the art of running, despite all the time I had spent with the Doctor.

“Don’t be silly, Rosa,” he protested. “Come, you must be starving.”

I wasn’t. The idea of food repelled me, no matter how much they told me to eat so my body had the strength to recover. I fed it my willpower. It had to be enough. “I’d like a glass of water,” I said to placate him.

Piero hadn’t let go of me as he walked me to the covered patio, and when we arrived I realised why. Everyone was there, sitting by the light of candles and paraffin lamps, wrapped up warmly against the cool night. The Doctor was there too. He rose so quickly when he saw us approach that he kicked over his chair as he hurried to take me in his arms.

I stood unmoving for a while. He felt very bony. He, too, hadn’t eaten much. Wherever he had been. As I raised my good arm to hold him I could feel his ribs through the material of his shirt. It was a painful sensation. His malialion body was shockingly warm. He kept saying my name as he held me.

“I only went for a walk,” I whispered.

He bundled me up in a blanket and made me sit in the chair he had overturned. Someone passed me a glass of water and I drank deeply.

“Well, it’s late and I think we should all go to bed,” Zia said as I put my glass down. I was grateful to her for not taking me to task.

“I was looking for you,” I said to the Doctor in the privacy of my room.

“I know,” was all he said. He stood in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. I changed into my nightgown behind the screen; I didn’t want him to see me, thin and without the bump but with a bullet wound. The thin garment made me feel safe. He hadn’t moved when I stepped out from behind the screen and padded to the bed.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” I said, slipping beneath the covers. “I’m so sorry.”

Still, he didn’t move.

I lay down but didn’t extinguish the paraffin lamp. It seemed rude to leave him in the darkness. He’d leave in a bit, of that I was sure, and he’d take the lamp with him. I didn’t expect anything else. I had failed and hurt him in the worst way possible. I understood that now, I understood why he had left. What I didn’t understand was why he had come back.

“I’m tired,” I said.

“Yes, you should rest,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “May I stay?”

“What?”

“I’d like to stay. If that’s okay. If you can forgive me,” he stammered.

I blinked, unable to say anything. Why did he want my forgiveness? It wasn’t his fault that I’d lost Jonah. He’d known all along, he’d mourned our son from the beginning.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone after... after Jonah died,” he said. “I was selfish and I was a coward. I’m so so sorry, Rose. Rovalionn ti. Pagali’ra sam, faronn ti, ngudia sam. Teach me to stay.”

It took me a while to understand that this wasn’t about me failing him.

“What happened, it wasn’t your fault, Rose,” he said as I communicated my openness in an attempt to make sense of what was happening. “It was all we could do to keep you and Yoru out of the hotel.”

“The room wasn’t damaged,” I whispered.

He hung his head. “Yeah, I know.”

“You knew I was going to lose Jonah,” I pointed out.

He nodded. “But I didn’t know how, or when exactly it was going to happen.”

I nodded. So many things made more sense. “Thank you for giving me that.” I knew that if he’d told me I’d never have had a single happy moment with the baby underneath my heart. Suddenly, all the rage I’d felt melted off me. He had given me so much and it had broken his hearts. Running was what kept my Time Lord sane. I couldn’t fault him for that. I folded back the covers for him. “Come to bed, my love. Tomorrow is another day.”

A smile ghosted over his face. Then he undressed and slid into bed with me.

“We’re going to be all right, the two of us, aren’t we?” he asked.

“Yes, ngudia sam.”

We curled up around each other, wrapped in the smell of dust and the day past. I buried my fingers in his hair and inhaled the sunlight in it.

End


End file.
